Learning the Ropes
by Redheadlass
Summary: OC Jessie starts her life with Sam and Dean. Takes place in Season 3, starting with Episode 5 through Season Finale. Spanking. Complete.
1. Chapter 1 - First Hunt

I clattered down the stairs with two backpacks in hand, ran into the Bobby's kitchen where the three of them were eating breakfast, and dropped them on the floor. "I'm ready," I announced, plopping into the empty chair and scooping some scrambled eggs onto my plate.

Dean smiled at me. "Took you long enough." He reached for the last of the bacon but Bobby smacked his hand and took it instead.

"So, where are we going?" I asked eagerly. We'd spent the last month getting the homeschooling paperwork straight, obtaining schoolbooks, and buying me better clothes. I'd spent a lot of time doing chores around Bobby's house too, making up the $200 that I had 'borrowed' from him to pay for my bus ticket.

"Maple Springs, New York," Sam said, putting strawberry jam on a piece of toast. "There's a psychotic killer."

Bobby rolled his eyes. "This is the first case you're taking her on? A werewolf case?"

"She's got to start coming with us sometime, Bobby. You already said that you can't take care of her here," Dean said. "This is the first case we've gotten since we made sure her fire was under control and got her set up for homeschooling."

"You just make sure she don't come to harm," Bobby grumbled, getting up and putting his dishes into the sink.

"Speaking of that," Dean said, reaching into his pocket, "I got you a cell phone."

My eyes lit up. My parents had told me that I couldn't have a cell phone until I was in high school. I had a deep pang of guilt and despair at the thought, which I tried to push aside, telling myself that it wasn't my fault, that I didn't do it on purpose, but it didn't really make me feel any better.

Dean handed me the phone. "There's rules that go along with this thing."

"Ok," I said hesitantly, opening it up to look at it. It was a standard clam-shell style cell phone. I started poking the buttons to see what was on the menus and noticed that Sam, Dean, and Bobby's numbers were already programmed in. I started looking for how to customize the ringtones when Dean plucked it out of my hand.

"Hey," I objected, looking up at him.

"Did you hear anything I just said?" he asked me.

"Uh, no," I said, flushing. "Sorry."

"Here are the rules," he said. "You keep the phone on you at all times. If one of us calls you, you answer it. If one of us texts you, you answer it."

"What the hell?" I asked. "It's not an electronic leash."

Dean raised his brows at me. "For you, it is. If you don't call or text back in a reasonable amount of time, we're going to assume you're in trouble and come looking for you, all right?"

"Yeah," I said. The fact that I was basically tethered to the phone galled me, but the reason made me feel a little better. "You know, I'm not helpless."

"No," Sam said. "You're eleven. Answer the phone when we call or text. It's just as likely we'll be asking you for help."

Now that made me feel a lot better. I smiled. "Ok," I said. Dean handed me the phone again.

"Let's go," Dean said. He picked up my two backpacks and carried them out to the car. When we got there, he tossed the one with my schoolbooks in it into the back seat and the other one into the trunk.

I climbed into the back seat, fastened my seat belt and started playing with the phone.

It was fifteen hours to Maple Springs from Bobby's house. Two hours into it, Sam said, "Jessie, I want you to start working on your schoolwork."

I was playing a Legend of Zelda game on a Game Boy that Bobby found in one of the cars that had gotten dumped at his salvage yard. I had the sound turned off so that it wouldn't drive Dean crazy, but I really didn't want to stop playing. "Can it wait a little longer?" I asked without looking up.

Turning around to look at me, Sam said, "No. It's already a month and a half past when everyone else started school and you haven't done a thing yet this year. I gave you the assignments a week ago. It's time to get started." His face brooked no nonsense.

I sighed and turned the Game Boy off, dropping it on the floor behind Sam's seat. I reached into my bag and pulled out one of the textbooks to start working.

Hours later, I'd fallen asleep in the back seat of the car. It was way late at night when I was awoken by Sam and Dean arguing about whether trying to kill the Crossroads Demon would get Dean out of the deal that he had made. Dean told Sam to let it go and Sam relented resentfully.

I now knew way more about what was going on than I had before. Sam and Dean had been remarkably silent about the whole one year to live thing up until now. I suspected that they had thought me asleep and then had just forgotten about me, but now I knew. Now I knew there was a deal with a demon and no matter what either Sam or Dean was going to die. I was going to lose one of them before I'd even been with them a year. That scared me.

Sam was telling Dean about the possible werewolf, at Dean's prompting. They worried that they wouldn't get to it in time. I listened to them talk and realized that pressure was pounding at the back of my head and in my temples.

"Guys," I said, interrupting them. "I need to stop. I need to burn something."

"How bad is it?" Dean asked.

"I'm not itchy yet, but the pressure is bad. I can't really go back to sleep like this or it might get out."

"I thought you had a lock on it," Sam said.

"I do, but it's better to release it when it's like this. Bree said that over time, I'll probably be able to hold it longer and longer, but right now, I should let it go when the pressure gets to be too much."

"All right," Dean said. "I'll find a place." He looked into the rearview mirror. "How long you been awake?"

"Since you guys started yelling at each other. Only a deaf guy could sleep through that," I said. I was quiet for a second. I wanted more than anything else to ask what would happen to me when Dean went to hell, but I thought now might not be the best time.

I stared out the window while Dean drove down the road. The guys lapsed into small talk and I tried to amuse myself by imagining running alongside the car. Then I had a better idea. What if instead of running, we had a trail of flame on the side of the road as we sped past in the car because we were so damn fast. I relaxed, leaned my head against the door and imagined it. It would be so cool. The light poles would light up as the flame touched them, sparking in our passage.

"Jessie, what the hell are you doing?" Sam yelled. I snapped my head up off the door, scared out of the doze I'd fallen into. I stared out the window at the trail of flame that was following, leaving a wash of fire in our path.

"Oh no," I said as Dean pulled over. I hurried out of the car and reached for the fire, pulling it back into me and locking it back up, but there was a fifty foot swath of burnt grass, trees, and light poles behind me. "I'm sorry," I said. "I was imagining that when I fell asleep, and I guess…"

I trailed off as I looked at both of their faces. Dean shook his head, grabbed my arm, and turned me around, landing five or six hard swats on the seat of my jeans. "Ow! Ow! Dean! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! Please, stop! Ow!"

He turned me back around and let go of my arm, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "You were imagining that when you fell asleep? You need to be way more careful than that, little girl. Lighting fires on the side of the road brings unwanted attention to us, not the mention how dangerous the fire is by itself. You keep that locked up until I tell you that you can let it out. Do you understand me?"

Abashed, I looked at my feet. "I didn't mean to, Dean."

"I don't care. You can't afford those kinds of mistakes. Something like that could get out of control and you could hurt or kill someone."

The word 'else' hung silently in the air. I started crying, but tried to hide it. "I'm sorry, Dean," I said, choking a little.

He sighed and pulled me into a hug. "Jessie, just… be more careful. Come on, let's get moving."

About an hour later, Dean pulled into a park. He drove around until he found a mulch pile. "Will that work?" he asked.

"Yeah, I think so," I said. He pulled up next to it, and he and Sam got fire extinguishers out of the trunk of the Impala.

"All right, go ahead," Dean said. I closed my eyes and opened myself to the flame. I aimed at the mulch pile and pushed the flame out of me towards the mulch pile, maintaining the connection. The mulch pile lit up and I pushed the flame into it, burning it faster and faster until I was drained. The fire still burned inside of me, but the pressure and itching was gone. The mulch pile had burned itself out and went out as soon as I dropped the connection with the flame.

The guys nodded approvingly and put the fire extinguishers back in the trunk. "You ready to get moving?" Dean asked. I nodded, got back in the car, and spent the rest of the trip thinking about my parents.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8

"We can't leave her in the motel, Dean."

"Well, we can't take her with us. FBI agents don't take their kids with them when they're questioning people."

"We can take her with us and she can either stay in the car or she can hang out in the hospital, but we can't leave her alone for that long."

They were whispering, but I'd been awake for a while. Dean had gotten us this room in the middle of the night last night, and we'd all crashed before starting the investigation this morning. I sat up in my bed and looked at both of them. "I'm eleven, not two." I said, interrupting them. "And I was alone for a couple of hours every day after school. I can take care of myself while you guys go off and question people."

"I'm sure you can," Sam said, "but we're not going to do that."

"Why?" I asked. "Don't you trust me?"

"No, not really," Dean said.

I felt like I'd been slapped. I fought back tears while I said, "I told you I'm not going to run again!"

Sam sighed. "Not because you ran, because you accidentally set the side of the road on fire last night. What if something like that happens again and we're not here?"

"Didn't you see me handle it last night? I pulled it all back into me, no problem! You don't have to babysit me." My heart was beating hard and my feelings were hurt. I could be trusted. I could!

Dean looked at me skeptically, and then he turned to Sam. "What do you think?"

Sam shrugged. "Why don't we bring her with us? She can hang out in the lobby with her science book." I glared at him. "Don't give me that look," he said. "Most kids go to school five days a week."

I relented. I'd put up with almost anything, as long as they decided they trusted me. "I promise," I said. "I'll be a complete angel."

"I'm sure," Dean scoffed. "Get dressed and let's get going."

We stopped for breakfast, although it was really more like lunch time, and then drove to the hospital that the brother who had survived the attack was staying in. Sam took me to the cafeteria while Dean checked with the front desk for information on the brother. He found a table in the corner that was unoccupied and out of view of the cafeteria workers. I sat down and opened my science book. Sam handed me a five. "In case you need something to drink or eat. I don't know how long we're going to be gone."

I looked up at him. "Thanks, Sam."

"Sure thing, squirt. We'll be back soon. Stay out of trouble."


	2. Chapter 2 - School Days

Ten minutes into my assignment and I was bored out of my mind. I started drawing pictures of fire and flame, will-o-wisps and smoke in my notebook. I wished they'd just teach me about hunting. That was what I was going to do with my life. Nothing else mattered.

I'd just finished drawing a fire fairy on the cover of the notebook when I saw someone get up and walk out of the cafeteria, leaving behind a magazine. I got up and went to get the magazine, which turned out to be a really old copy of People. Not the most interesting magazine to flip through, but better than doing my science assignment. I leaned back in my chair and started flipping through the pages, drawing flames and fire here and there throughout the magazine with my pen.

I was scribbling flames at the feet of some Hollywood socialite when I heard Sam say from behind me, "You finish your assignment already?"

I jumped guiltily, turned and tried to keep the magazine behind me so that he wouldn't see how much of it I had drawn on. "You scared the crap out of me," I said. I looked at my feet and took a breath before answering, "Yeah, I finished the assignment a few minutes ago."

"Come on," Sam said, beckoning to me. "We've got other places to be."

I stuffed my book and notebook into my backpack and followed him out of the cafeteria, carrying my backpack with me and kicking myself mentally. There was no way to get away with this. What the hell had I been thinking? He was going to ask me for the assignment so he could check it and I wasn't going to have it. It wasn't like telling my parents I didn't have homework and then doing it on the bus the next morning. He was my teacher. I ran my hand through my hair, tailing along after him to meet up with Dean at the front of the hospital. We started heading towards the Impala.

About half a block from the hospital, Dean asked Sam to see the portrait he had drawn. Dean ribbed him about it and I looked from behind his elbow. "Oh my god, Sam, that's horrible. I can draw better than that."

"Sure you could. You'll have to show me later," he said. They continued to talk about the case while I listened intently, learning that werewolves eat the hearts of the victims and that this was probably not a werewolf because that's not what he'd done. They didn't have any ideas either.

When we got back in the car and drove off towards the motel, I opened my backpack and pulled out the notebook, showing him the fire fairy I'd drawn on the cover. "Check it out. You wish you had my skills."

Sam took the notebook from me and regarded the fire fairy. "That is bad-ass, Jessie. Nice work. This have your science assignment in it?"

I reached over the seat and grabbed it back from him. "No, that's a different notebook."

"Hey," Dean said looking in the rearview mirror. "Seatbelt."

I dropped into the seat and fastened my seatbelt. "We're in the middle of a town. Nothing is going to happen to me here."

"Keep it up and we'll see about that," Dean threatened mildly. I didn't buy it. He was in too good of a mood to mean it.

"Let me see your science assignment," Sam prompted me.

"Uh, I just want to check the answers. I'll give it to you in a minute," I said, opening the science book in a rush.

Sam turned around to look at me over the back of the seat. "Jessie," he said. I glanced up at him from the book. He looked at me intently. Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

"Yeah?" I asked in a small voice.

"Did you actually work on your assignment while you were in the cafeteria?"

"No," I whispered, looking at my book.

"What the hell, Jessie? All you had to do was say no. Why did you lie to me?"

"I didn't want you to be mad that I spent the time doodling in my notebook and drawing fire on celebrities!" I insisted. Dean snorted but managed not to laugh, while Sam looked at me sternly.

"I'm going to explain this one more time. When I tell you to work on your assignments, I expect you to work on them, but it's worse to lie to me about it. How exactly did you expect to get away with that?"

I shrugged and looked at my notebook. The flames I'd drawn on the first page were particularly pretty.

"Do not lie to me, Jessie. Not about assignments, not about anything."

"Ok," I said. I opened the science book. Sam turned back around, and I breathed a sigh of relief before I realized that he hadn't actually given me any indication of whether or not I was going to be in more trouble.

"Uh, Sam?" I asked, tracing my finger down the middle of the book. "Am I in trouble?"

"No," Sam said. "But this is your last chance."

"You're nicer than I am, Sammy. I'd've had her over my knee for that," Dean said without heat, turning into the motel parking lot. I flushed.

We got out of the car, and I ran into the room and turned the television on, sitting down on Dean's bed. Sam followed after me and turned it off. "Come on, Sam," I said. "Just for a little while?"

"Come on, nothing. You have an assignment to finish." He pointed to a chair at the table by the window. I sighed and slouched toward the table, flopping into the chair. Sam handed me my backpack and the science book from where I dropped it on the bed. I sighed and opened the book to the chapter I was on. I started reading.

Fifteen minutes later, Sam put his hand in front of the page. It took me a couple seconds to realize it was there. I blinked twice and then looked up at him. "You've been staring at the same page for ten minutes," Sam said. "Where are you?"

I'd been reading about safe and unsafe lab practices, got to the part about flame, and quite honestly, I'd let my mind wander again. I shook my head. "I dunno. Sam, this stuff is really boring."

"Jessie, this stuff is about observing the world and how it works. It helps you learn how to draw the right conclusions, test your hunches, and figure out what works and what doesn't. Learning this makes you a better detective, a better hunter, a better scientist, and a better problem solver. It's important."

I sighed. "All the kids in regular school get an actual teacher," I complained. "They get told about what's in the chapters. They don't just read the stupid thing and then have to answer the questions at the end of the chapter. That's what we had to do for busy work or when there was a substitute."

"Is this your way of asking me for help?" Sam asked.

"Sort of," I said.

"I'll make you a deal," Sam said. "You read the instructional lessons and we'll do the experiments together, ok? Then you can do the chapter questions."

"I guess," I said.

Sam sighed. "Think of it another way, Jessie. The faster you get this done, the sooner you are done. This isn't like 'real' school. Once we're done with the work, you're done until the next school year starts."

I brightened. I hadn't realized that he'd let me do that. "Ok," I said. I turned back to the books. Dean turned on the television, while Sam sat down in front of his computer and started fiddling around on the internet.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8

The next morning, Sam was checking the assignments I'd finished the previous day when Dean's phone rang. Turned out there was another incident and they needed to go back to the hospital to talk to the new victim. This time, they didn't want to leave me in the cafeteria, so I got to tag along with them.

As we were walking down the hallway, two police officers came out of the room that the victim was in, and Sam and Dean both turned and started looking at some tissues and a flower arrangement on the nurse's station. Dean pulled me next to him and held me there.

"Don't look at them," he instructed in a low tone. So I watched them out of the corner of my eye instead while Dean fiddled with a pen. When the police officers had passed, the guys both headed towards the room again.

"What…?" I started.

"We're wanted," Dean whispered. "And we're impersonating police officers. Don't worry about it. Come on."

I followed slowly behind them realizing that I had really no idea who these two were and what they were like, what they'd done. I mean, Dean has sold his soul to a demon, and Sam was brought back from the dead, and they were wanted by the police? Dread and worry made an ache in my stomach. What if I'd made the wrong decision? They seemed good, honest, capable, and all that, and they had rescued me, but what if they were really bad guys?

I stayed back when they talked to the doctor so the doctor wouldn't notice me, but once we were in the room with the pretty blonde-haired victim, Dean pointed at the chair by her bed, so I went and sat in it. I listened while she described what had seen and it sounded a lot to me like the story of Hansel and Gretel, but I didn't say anything.

After a quick stop at the motel for them to change, our next destination was the old lady's house. I followed them around, watching closely as Sam looked for EMF and Dean checked for sulfur. I wanted to learn all about how to hunt and what to look for when hunting, so I spent a lot of time just watching them and learning from what they were doing and what they said to each other. I scribbled a few things in my notebook.

Eventually Sam suggested fairy tales as the explanation for the murders and explained all about the Grimm fairy tales. I noted the name and remembered that my mom had had a copy of Grimm's Fairy Tales, but I hadn't ever read them.

Sam and Dean decided to look up missing or dead little girls with a matching description to the one the pretty blonde victim gave. We headed to the library to do some research. Dean wandered off to the records room while Sam pointed to table by the window and said, "Sit there and work on your next assignment."

I pouted. "Come on, Sam. This is a freakin' library. At least let me look at the other books."

"We're going to be here a while," he said. "Get your next assignment done and then you can wander around."

I sat down in the hard wooden chair, really not wanting to work on my math assignment. Sam wandered into the stacks, so I opened my math book and looked to see how many questions there were at the end of the chapter. I numbered a page of my notebook and just scribbled down numbers as answers. Then I stuck the notebook into the book, shut the book, and took off into the stacks.

I loved libraries. Tall shelves full of dusty books made me a little giddy inside. I'd always loved to read, when it wasn't schoolbooks, and this library was surprisingly large for such a small town. I wandered around the adult section looking for anything that looked like an eleven-year-old probably shouldn't be reading it, but eventually the librarian found me and led me to the children's section, which was empty in the middle of the day in the middle of the week.

There was actually an entire section of fairy tales, from Disneyfied children's books to old copies of a bunch of fairy books by some guy named Andrew Lang. I found a slim book that was simply labeled Grimm's Fairy Tales and sat down in a beanbag chair to start reading it.

I don't know how long I sat there, but it was a while because I was halfway through the book when Sam snatched it out of my hand and put it back on the shelf. Then he reached down, took my upper arm, and pulled me to my feet. "What, Sam?" I whispered, mindful of the quiet of the library and the fact that I was apparently in trouble.

Sam didn't say anything, just pulled me after him across the entire library to the table where I'd left my math book and assignment. I was so glad that the place was almost empty. The librarian saw us, but didn't say anything, although she did watch until he got me to the table.

He set me down in the chair, and then crouched down next to me. I was a little scared at this point, because he looked mad. He looked madder than Dean looked when Dean was peeved with me. "What?" I asked, still whispering.

He put his head in close to mine and when I pulled back, he reached up and gently pulled my neck forward until my forehead was touching his. "You know what," he whispered. "You didn't do the assignment. You _faked_ doing the assignment so you could go off and read."

"I was doing research," I objected quietly. "I was studying up on Grimm's Fairy Tales."

Sam scowled. "Did I ask you to do that? Did I tell you to do anything but your math assignment?"

I frowned. "I did the assignment," I said, a little louder now. "In normal school, I would just have failed it."

"I don't know when you're going to get this through your head, but let me enlighten you on something, young lady. This is not normal school. This is life as a hunter's child, and you don't have the option of failing an assignment. You have the option of doing the assignment with or without a sore butt. Do I make myself clear?" Sam whispered fiercely.

"This is so unfair!" I yelled, pushing away from Sam.

Sam grabbed my chin and made me look at him. "Keep your voice down. We can go back to the motel right now and talk about how unfair this is. Is that what you want to do?"

I looked down and shook my head. He pointed to the book. "Do the assignment. Then do the next lesson, too. We'll talk about this more later."


	3. Chapter 3 - Paying the Piper

A few hours later, I'd finished the math assignments and Sam took me outside to the park to get some energy out while Dean was finishing up his search in the records room. We met Dean in front of the library when he finally finished. As we walked through the park to the car, Dean reported that there were no little girls matching the description. Sam started talking about a woman who could basically hypnotize people psychically and make them do things. Dean admitted it might be fairy tales when we saw a huge frog in the middle of the path that wouldn't move.

That's when Sam noticed the pumpkin and the mice in front of a nearby house.

"Jessie, stay here," Dean said. They left me at the foot of the porch steps while they went into the house. I waited for a minute and then slowly walked up the steps to stand in the doorway of the open door, figuring I'd still be safe. I saw Dean and Sam draw their guns, and Dean crossed in front of the open door. He pointed down the steps and then closed the door.

I went back down the steps and sat on the bottom one, sideways, so I could watch the door. About fifteen minutes later, Dean came out carrying a big red apple and gestured to me to follow him to the car, which was a ways down the street from the house. Dean leaned against the car and patted the hood. I climbed up onto the bumper and sat where he'd patted. "When I tell you to 'stay here', you stay where you were. You don't get closer so you can watch. Are we clear?"

"Yes, Dean," I said.

"Other than that, you did just fine." He twirled the apple and tossed it from one hand to another. An ambulance drove by, headed for the house, lights on but siren quiet. I turned and watched it park. Paramedics rushed into the house.

"Sam's mad at me," I said, turning back to face Dean.

"Why's Sam mad at you?" Dean asked absently. "You mess up your schoolwork?"

"I wanted to read at the library, so I kind of faked doing an assignment so I could go read."

"And he caught you," Dean said. He shook his head. "Lying and not doing your assignment. You really know how to rack 'em up." He tossed the apple in the air, still completely relaxed. "You need to work on that lying thing and quick."

"He said he wants to talk about it later," I whispered.

"Do the crime, you gotta do the time," Dean stated like it was all the world's truth.

I sighed and rested my elbows on my knees, my chin in my hands. "Yeah," I said. "Dean, if I'm going to be a hunter like you guys, how is any of this stuff going to help me?"

Dean stopped twirling the apple and looked at me. "You're not going to be a hunter like we are. You can get that out of your head right now."

"I'm not exactly safe for the general public, Dean," I said, "what with the fire and all."

"You're not going to be a hunter, and that's that. Got it?" The look on his face stopped me cold.

"Ok," I said, quietly. I didn't mean it, though. I just knew better than to push right now.

He put his arm around me. "That's my girl." But I wondered what a firebrand like me could do if she couldn't be a hunter. Besides, if I saved people, maybe I could make up for the fact that I burned my parents to death. I swallowed hard against the grief that rose within me at that thought.

Glancing around for a distraction, I saw the apple that Dean was futzing with. "What's with the apple?" I asked.

"Ghost of the little girl left it for me."

"Snow White," I said. "You don't even have to read the Grimm version to know that. It was the first Disney animated movie or something. She have skin white as snow, lips red as blood, and hair as black as ebony?"

"Yeah," Dean said.

"Snow White," I said. I hopped off the hood and got my Game Boy out of the back of the car. I slid back onto the hood to sit next to Dean. He stayed lost in thought while I went back to playing Legend of Zelda. Eventually, Sam came ambling up the road and said that he thought that the girl was basically Snow White, who was put to sleep when she bit a poison apple her stepmom gave her. We headed back to the hospital.

The nurse at the hospital told them about Callie, the doctor's daughter who had been in a coma at the hospital for years. I trailed them while they found the doctor and questioned him about what happened with Callie. When they finished talking to him, we headed towards the entrance, but when we got there, an old lady was being wheeled in. The Emergency Room doctor said that it looked like she had been mauled by an animal. Dean used his FBI badge to get the next of kin information from the paramedic. Dean told Sam to find a way to stop Callie, and he was going to go off and stop the big bad wolf.

"You stay here with Sam," he told me. "It's safer." He took off. Sam took my hand and led me off to find the doctor. Once he found the doctor, he let me go and I hung back while Sam explained what was going on, even in so far as following the doctor into Callie's room. Once inside, I sat in one of the chairs in the room, trying to stay out of the way. That's when the doctor revealed that he had seen Callie as a spirit, too. At Sam's prompting, the doctor talked to Callie and convinced her to stop hurting people.

I sat there stunned as it played out and Callie died. Her father was stricken with grief. "At least she didn't die burning," I muttered to myself, too low for anyone else to hear.

Dean came back to the hospital to meet with us and we headed out to get food. After dinner, Dean took us to another local park where I could burn off my excess flame in a bonfire pit that was there. By then, it was after dark, and we headed back to the motel.

"Shower, teeth, and PJs," Sam said after he unlocked the door to the room. "Then come see me."

My heart sank. I'd been hoping he'd forget. I'd been hoping that the events of the day would make him too tired to deal with me. I'd just been hoping that I wouldn't be in trouble any more.

I probably took twice as long as I normally did in the shower and with brushing my teeth. I put on my nightshirt and dragged myself out to find Dean watching TV and drinking a beer and Sam waiting, sitting on his bed.

"Come here," he said.

"It's ok," I said, taking a step back into the bathroom. "I learned my lesson. You don't have to spank me."

"Thank you for the assurances," he said. "Now come here."

I hesitated. I really didn't want to go over there. He didn't look the same level of angry that he had before, but he wasn't happy with me. "The doctor didn't spank Callie. He just talked to her," I tried.

"Callie was a ghost," Sam said.

"Her body was right there," I said.

Sam rolled his eyes and said, "Young lady, don't make me come get you." I gave up and just went to him.

Sam wasn't one for talking before a spanking. When I was in front of him, he tipped me over his lap and brought his huge hand down on my butt without any preamble. I shrieked, mostly out of surprise. He held me there easily as his hand descended over and over again while I kicked and struggled, trying to catch my breath.

"How many times do I have to tell you, Jessie? Do your assignments when I tell you to. Don't make up other things that you have to do first. Don't go off in daydream mode. If you decide for some reason not to do your assignment, then don't lie to me, either by word or action, and tell me you did. I have no idea why you could have possibly thought you'd get away with that. What were you thinking?"

I was lost. I couldn't answer him because the only thing I was thinking about was the fire on my butt, but he paused and gave me a second. "Well?" he prompted.

Through tears, facing the ugly green rug, I said, "I wanted to help you. I wanted to help with the case. I don't want to be useless."

"You're not useless, Jessie. You're eleven," Sam said, and then he started spanking me again, punctuating each word with a swat. "And you do not lie to us. You do not make decisions on what you will study. You do your schoolwork." He stopped again. "Do you understand me, Jessie?"

"Yes," I sobbed. I had pulled the bedspread into a ball, wrapped my arms around it, and was crying into it.

"Who makes the decisions?" Sam asked me.

"You and Dean," I said. I started to calm down a little, thinking he was done, but then his next words panicked me.

"And what's the punishment for lying?"

I tried to push myself off the bed, off of his lap, but he simply placed a hand on my lower back and held me down. "No, Sam, please! I didn't lie. I didn't lie!"

"You didn't write a bunch of answers on a sheet of paper so I'd think you did the assignment when you didn't?"

I didn't say anything. I just started crying again.

"That's lying, young lady. That's manipulation and falsehood, and I'm not going to put up with it. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Sam," I said, my face buried in the bedspread.

"What's the punishment for lying?" he insisted.

"Twice whatever I was already getting, but please, Sam. Please? I swear, I've learned my lesson." I tried to twist, to push off his lap again, but he wouldn't let me and then his hand came down again.

"You do not get to trick us so that you can have your way. That's now how this works," he scolded as he spanked. "You obey the intent of the instruction, not the word. You will learn that."

His hand descended again and again. I kicked and squirmed and eventually gave up and just cried into the bedspread again. I can only assume it was twice the original amount because I couldn't count them.

When he was done, he scooped me up and hugged me to him, kissing my hair. "Schoolwork is important, Jessie," he said. "I can't count the number of times something has happened during a hunt that something I learned in school helped me with. Just do the work and if you have problems, ask me for help. Ok?"

"Yes, Sam," I said, calming down a little.

He stroked my hair. "No more tricks, no more manipulation, no more falsehoods. Got it?"

I nodded. He carried me to my bed and tucked me in. Dean hugged and kissed me, too. I rolled over to go to sleep.

Sometime in the middle of the night, I woke up when I heard someone moving around the room. It was Sam. He'd packed a backpack. He looked over at Dean and headed towards the door. I sat up and whispered, "Sam!"

He turned guiltily to see me sitting there. He came over and kissed me on the head. "It's ok, squirt. I'm just going out for a bit. Go back to sleep," he whispered. He helped me back under the covers and tucked me back in.

"Are you going to be gone long?" I whispered.

"No, not long. I'll be back in a few hours, ok?"

"Ok," I whispered. He crept out the door, checking on Dean once again before he left. I slipped back into a fitful, uncomfortable doze, but I wasn't able to go back to sleep until Sam came back. Once he was back, I went back to sleep hard.

Morning came too soon. Dean woke me up in his normal way by shaking me. "What time is it?" I groaned, covering my head with my blanket.

"8 a.m.," Dean said, pulling the blanket back off of my head.. "Get moving. Sam went out for coffee, but we need to be out of here soon."

I sat up and rubbed my eyes. "Why? We just finished a hunt."

"Come on, Jessie. Get up," Dean said, not answering my question.

I groaned and lay back down. "Just a few more minutes, please? I didn't sleep that well."

"Why not?" Dean asked, gathering up his things and stuffing them into his bag. I considered, but decided that since Sam had been so adamant about Dean not seeing him leave, I shouldn't tell Dean that he had left.

"Nightmares," I said. "I kept waking up."

Dean sat down on the edge of my bed and looked at me with concern. "You have nightmares, you can wake me up, you know. You don't have to lie in the dark alone."

I hadn't, but the idea made me feel warm inside. "Ok," I said. "Maybe next time." I crawled out from under the covers and hugged him. He hugged me back.

"Get moving, sweetheart," he said, letting me go. I climbed out of bed, grabbed my backpack and headed into the bathroom to get dressed.


	4. Chapter 4 - In the Offing

When I came out of the bathroom, Dean was holding a gun, barrel pointed to the floor, and looking in the cylinder. His gaze narrowed onto me and he raised his eyebrows. "You touch this?" he asked me.

"No," I said. "I wouldn't know what to do with a gun if someone handed one to me."

"We'll have to fix that," Dean said, absently. He snapped the cylinder back into place and stored the gun in his bag. "Until we do, though, you stay away from our guns, got it?"

I shrugged and started picking my schoolbooks up. "Yeah, no problem." I shuddered. "Who needs a gun when you have fire at your beck and call?

"Hey," he said. "Don't use your fire as a weapon." I looked at him. His chin was tilted down and his eyebrows were up again.

I shrugged a second time. "Ok," I said, turning away from him. Whatever. If someone attacked me, I wasn't going to just sit there when I could easily protect myself.

Dean walked over to me and turned me back to face him. "I mean it, Jessie."

I jerked my shoulder out of his grasp. "I'm just supposed to let some guy kidnap and rape me when I could light his foot on fire and get away?"

Dean looked startled, and then his face hardened a little. "That's not what I mean. I don't want another death on your conscience, and Sam and I can take care of ourselves, so don't go using your fire as a weapon on anyone on our behalf, understand?"

I stared at him in disbelief. "Yeah, ok," I said sarcastically. "If someone is about to stab you, I won't light their hair on fire so that you don't die. That's makes complete sense."

"Don't get smart with me, little girl."

"Dean, don't you think that not doing something and letting you or Sam die is going to hurt me more?" I asked, completely serious and starting to get upset.

"We're not going to die," Dean said.

"Yes, you are. You're going to hell in less than a year, Dean. What the hell am I going to do then?" I crossed my arms in front of my chest and glared at him, holding back the despair in my stomach.

"You're going to go on living with Sam. He'll take just as good care of you as we do together, and he doesn't need your protection."

"It won't be the same!" I wailed. I couldn't help it; I burst into tears. Dean pulled me into his arms and held me until I stopped crying.

"It doesn't have to be the same, Jessie," Dean said, "as long as you're taken care of. Now finish packing so we can get going when Sam gets back." He met my eyes and I nodded. He let me go.

Sam was back ten minutes later and we packed up the car. An hour out of Maple Springs, we stopped at a diner for breakfast. After we ordered, Sam pulled out newspaper folded with an article outward and set it on the table in front of us.

"I think I found something," Sam said. "There have been some weird drowning deaths in Massachusetts. The victims are drowning on land."

"Let's check it out," Dean said. They started discussing the specifics of the case, going over what was in the newspaper. Sam said that he could do some research in it once we got in town. I tuned them out and fiddled with my fork, still thinking about what Dean had said in the motel room. He didn't want me to kill anyone else, didn't want that on my conscience, didn't trust me to be able to protect myself or them or control my own fire. Ok, he hadn't said that, but why else wouldn't they want my help. Being able to control fire was an important thing. Maybe if I just practiced it, just got better at it, I could be more useful. If I could direct the fire with more precision, then I could be sure that I set only the thing I was aiming at on fire.

I swung my feet under my seat and thought about it. I got to light a fire every night right now, to take the edge off. Maybe instead of just lighting the fire and burning it out of me, I could try to control it, direct it. Then I'd be more useful. Of course, it would take more time, but they'd never complained about the time I took, and I didn't think they'd mind if I had more control.

I stuck the fork into the paper placemat and started tearing holes. I wondered if maybe the problem was that he didn't want any more deaths on his conscience because he'd saved me and now he was taking care of me instead of hunting me like the parent-slaughtering monster I was. The waitress set a plate down in front of me, a chocolate chip pancake with a whipped cream smile. Sam nudged me. "Thank her," he whispered.

I looked up at the waitress and said, "Thanks." She nodded and wandered off. I scraped all of the whipped cream off the pancake, and then I picked all of the melted chocolate-soaked bits out of the pancake, eating them one by one. Dean looked at me, looked at Sam, and shrugged.

Sam frowned. "Use a fork," he suggested gently.

"No one cares if I use a fork," I replied. Sam looked confused and turned to Dean.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" Dean asked.

"Nothing," I said angrily. "Everything is fine." Dean opened his mouth to say something else and a fire flared up in the kitchen. It called to me, but I ignored it, still picking out the chocolate bits of my pancake. People shouted and there was a commotion while the staff put it out. When I looked up, Sam and Dean were both looking at me.

I sighed, defeated. "I didn't do it," I said. "I had nothing to do with it. It's a diner. Grease fires happen." They looked relieved. I was suddenly over it and them and wanted to be alone.

I stood up. "I'm going to go wait in the car," I said.

Dean narrowed his eyes. "You barely touched your food."

I glanced at the now pock-marked destruction of the pancake face. "I'm not hungry. Can I have the keys?"

Dean handed me the keys. "I don't want to hear any complaints about how hungry you are in an hour," he warned. "And leave the radio off."

"Whatever," I said as I walked towards the door.

As I walked out the door, behind me I heard Sam ask Dean "What's wrong with her?"

It was a gorgeous day outside. It was cold enough that I needed a jacket, but the sun was shining. The sun made me feel a little better, and instead of getting into the car, I crawled onto the hood and lay in the sun. The metal beneath me was still warm from the engine and from the sun hitting the black paint. The heat soaked through my jacket. I started to relax.

The notification tone I had set for Dean went off in my pocket. I rolled over, dug the phone out of my pocket, and saw the message from Dean. "Get off the hood, get out of the sun or you will sunburn." Annoyed, I rolled off the hood, opened the car door and tossed my phone into the back seat as hard as I could. It bounced off the back of the seat and onto the floor under the driver's side front seat.

I got into the back seat, pulled out my Language Arts book, and started reading my next assignment, which was thankfully a story, so that Sam wouldn't start bitching at me too. The last thing I needed right now was more annoyance and a good story seemed like a good distraction. The story I was reading was called "All Summer in a Day" and it soon consumed me. I only barely noticed Sam and Dean getting into the car.

Dean handed a bag back to me. I stopped reading long enough to take it from him. "It's biscuits for when you get hungry later," Dean said uncomfortably. Warmth suffused me.

"Thanks, Dean," I said, meaning it. I set the bag of biscuits on the floor and went back to reading, suddenly in a much better mood.

We drove all day, stopping for food, gas, and bathroom breaks along the way. I read some more, did some assignments that Sam insisted I do, and played on the Game Boy. I was starting to know all of Dean's music by heart. Sitting with my back to the passenger's side door and my knees to my chest, I watched the sun go down through the trees by the side of the highway, the sunlight flashing through the trees branches like a beacon until the sun was below the tree line and I couldn't see it any longer. I missed it.

I lay down on the seat and stared out the window at the darkening sky, scattered clouds floating in front of the stars, blocking out the constellations. My dad had taught me all of the ones he knew when I was eight and we'd gone on an overnight hike in the Smokies, but I only remembered two of them now. I wondered if Sam or Dean could show them to me again. I watched the stars and thought of my dad. Tall, dark-haired, bearded, he smelled of pipe smoke and Polo cologne and laughed often and long.

_The street was dark and the stars were close to me. I turned to see my dad setting up a badminton net in the front yard, the rackets and birdie sitting on the front stoop. My mom leaned out the front window and asked if he wanted a beer. Dad was using a hammer to pound the pole into the ground and he said "Sure." I looked up to see the roof on fire, the room behind my mom on fire. _

_I yelled "Mom, get out!" and went to run into the house, but when I opened the front door, flame flowed towards me in streams, like water, like oil. It came to me, it called to me. "What's wrong, Jessie?" my dad asked, setting a hand on my shoulder. I turned to look at him, and he was on fire, burning to bits before my eyes. "Dad!" I screamed. "No! Dad!" I tried to pull the fire back into me, but it wouldn't come because I was full. I couldn't save them. I turned to run and the neighborhood was an inferno, but none of it touched me. Me, it loved. Me, it wouldn't hurt. It sang my name as the houses burned and people died screaming._

My eyes flew open and I sat up. The car was dark, quiet. We were still driving down the road at a nice clip, Sam and Dean both lost in their own thoughts. I slid so that my back was again pressed to the passenger side door and pulled my knees back up to my chest. I cried quietly so Sam and Dean wouldn't know.

About ten minutes later, Dean asked Sam if Sam had something to tell him. I listened with wide eyes as Sam admitted, with some prompting, that he had taken the Colt the previous night and shot the Crossroads Demon in an effort to save Dean. He was unrepentant. I had no idea how he managed to stand up to Dean like that, but then Dean couldn't exactly spank Sam. It would be funny to see him try, though. They yelled at each other until they were finished, with no real resolution to the fight. I was starting to get used to that.

A half an hour later, we pulled into the yard of an abandoned-looking house and parked in the back yard. Dean turned off the car.

"Stay here until we come get you, Jessie," Dean said. The two of them got out of the car and checked over the house. Dean came back a few minutes later.

"Ok, get your stuff and come on."

Confused, I picked up my backpack, got out of the car, and followed him to the trunk. "We're staying here?"

"Yes."

"It's not a motel," I said.

"This is the coast of Massachusetts," Dean said, pulling our bags out of the trunk. "There are no cheap motels."

I picked up my other backpack. "But, this isn't our house."

"Nope," Dean said. "It's abandoned. We're borrowing it for a few days." He shut the trunk and headed towards the house. I followed along, hurrying to keep up.

"Is that legal?" I asked.

"Not even a little," Dean said. We went inside. The place was a wreck. It smelled like mold and mildew and dirt. Broken furniture was all over the place. There was no electricity.

I was horrified. "What, how…" I stuttered. I crossed my arms in front of my chest, not wanting to touch anything. Sam came down the stairs.

"Three rooms upstairs," he said. "Rock paper scissors for the mattress?" Dean shrugged and set down the bags. Dean lost and Sam got the room with the mattress.

"I'm not sleeping in here," I said. "I'll sleep in the Impala."

"You will not. You'll sleep in one of the rooms upstairs," Dean said. "Come on."

"Dean, seriously. Spiders? Rats?" I said, cringing. "I can't stay here."

"You wanna be a hunter, right?" He took my hand and led me towards the stairs.

"Yeah," I said hesitantly as we climbed.

"Welcome to a hunter's life." He turned down the corridor and opened the doors to all the rooms. One of the rooms had a mattress. Another had an ancient, moldering crib in it. The third was pretty much empty.

"We're not going to shower while we're here?" I asked, moving down the hall to the bathroom at the end. The bathroom was dirty, but with dirt, not with… other things. I thought maybe I could handle that. At least the place had a bathroom.

"Oh, there's water. That we can turn on. All it takes is a wrench."

"Great," I said, inspecting the tub. Spiders had built webs in the corners at the ceilings. I shuddered.

"Come on, Jessie. I'll kill them for you. Let's get your fire burned off and get you settled in for the night."

I followed him back down the stairs where Sam was setting out candles that he'd retrieved from the Impala's trunk. "I turned the water on," Sam said.

"There's a fireplace," I said to Dean, excited. "I can set a fire in there."

"I don't think so," Dean said. "Who knows how long it's been since the chimney was cleaned out. Nope, outside you go. I saw an old woodpile back behind the place that you can burn."

Once I was at the woodpile and Dean had said it was ok, I tried to select specific logs in the woodpile to burn, but I couldn't seem to do it. I'd basically hit the log, but I'd also hit the area a foot around the log. It didn't seem to matter that the log was what I was aiming at, the diameter of my fire was about three feet. By the time I'd burned enough to make the pressure go down, I was frustrated. Dean could tell.

"What's wrong with you? Usually burning cheers you up," he said as we headed back towards the house.

That annoyed me further. Yeah, the thing that killed my parents made me happy, and people could tell. Not that I'd ever told them about the jolt of pleasure every time I lit a flame. "Nothing," I said. "Nothing is wrong with me. I'm fine."

I trudged up the back steps and went in the house. Sam had pulled an old table into the middle of the main room and set up a workspace for himself there. He'd also set my school backpack on the table near him and put a chair there for me. I had no idea why, but that pissed me off, too.

Sam looked up when I came in and noticed the look on my face. "Jessie, what's going on?"

I lost it. "Nothing is going on. I'm fine. I'll stay in your stupid, abandoned, illegal house and shower in a spider-infested hellhole, and I'll sleep in a room with a rotting crib and a gazillion bugs, and I'll just be _happy_ about it because we at least have water, but no electricity, no internet access, and no refrigeration. Because that's how hunter's live. Not that I'm _allowed_ to _be_ a hunter."

I turned to go up the stairs, but Dean's hand fell on my shoulder. He turned me to face him. "Hey, lose the attitude," he said. "You forced us to let you live this life."

"Yeah, I can see I made a great decision," I snapped, "living with two outlaws in a broken down, filthy hovel. Best decision of my damned life, right after the one where I decided to kill my parents." I jerked my shoulder away from him, stomped up the stairs to the room I was staying in, there was no way I was calling it my room, and saw that Sam had laid out a bedroll for me, put the backpack with my clothes in it in the room, and moved the rotting crib out of the room. I suddenly felt really bad, really guilty.

I sighed and turned to go back down the hall, but Dean was already at the top of the stairs, his face thunderous. Sam was there a second later. "I'm sorry," I said without any preamble, my face crumpling. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it. I'm happy I'm with you guys. I'm sorry."

They looked at each other and then Sam stepped forward and took my arm, crouching down to look me in the eye. "Jessie, you have got to stop losing your temper and saying mean things. You understand me?" he asked gently. "Wouldn't it be better if you didn't have to apologize for saying those things because you'd never said them?"

I nodded, but then I couldn't help it and I started sobbing. Sam hugged me. "Ok, it's ok, honey," he said.

Dean went into my room and got my backpack. Sam stopped hugging me, and Dean took my hand and led me into the bathroom. He unzipped my backpack and handed me my toothbrush and toothpaste. While I brushed my teeth, he spent a few minutes in there with a rag, cleaning the spiders from the corners of the shower and tub.

"Ok?" he asked, motioning to the now spider-free tub area.

I nodded. "Thanks, Dean," I said.

"Shower, then bed. I'll go make sure your room is bug and rat free."

I sighed in relief. "Thanks, Dean" I said. He left the room, closing the door behind him.

Well, at least the water worked.


	5. Chapter 5 - Underway

They let me sleep late the next morning, maybe hoping that extra time would sweeten my mood. I woke up a lot, but it was 11 a.m. when I finally got out of bed, got dressed, and wandered down the stairs. Sam had apparently been to the library because there were a lot of books on the table. Dean was gone.

"Hey," I said as a greeting. "Is there breakfast?"

Sam looked up from his book and gestured to the fast food bag that was on the table. I dug in the bag and pulled out an English muffin with egg and cheese on it and a little bag of hash browns. There was a little carton of orange juice next to the bag. I sat down at the table next to Sam and ate. When I was done, Sam said, "You were in the car all day yesterday. When your food settles, I want you to go run the yard."

I stared at him. "What?" I asked, not sure I'd heard right.

He looked up from the book again. "You're not getting enough exercise. You need to stay in shape. I run several mornings a week, and I ran this morning. You're going to start the habit too."

I thought about that. "Well, you know," I said. "It would be better if I could do it with you."

Sam tilted his head in agreement. "Ok," he said. "Next time you're awake when I go, you can go with me."

I smiled. "It will help me be in shape?" I didn't finish the sentence with 'so I can hunt'.

He shrugged. "It's one of the things," he said. I went upstairs to put my sweats on.

A couple hours later, we were headed to the waterfront to talk to the aunt of the victim. Dean parked in front of a meter at the end of the docks.

"Should I stay here?" I asked.

Dean shook his head. "No, come on. You can just wait for us outside the woman's house."

The docks were gorgeous, lined with all these insanely rich yachts. The water was beautiful, the sun glinting off it brightly. It was a little chilly, since it was early November, so I was wearing a jacket. As we walked past the yachts, I saw a couple of girls and a boy playing around on the deck of one of the yachts. I slowed down as we went by, and the girls waved at me. I waved back, but hurried to keep up with Sam and Dean.

When we got to the woman's house, Dean told me to wait across the street on the sidewalk. The house faced a seawall, and I went and hung my feet over the seawall, enjoying the sun as it gently warmed me in the face of the cool wind. Seagulls flitted around in the sky, coming close to see if I had anything to give them but then flying quickly off when they saw I didn't. I pulled my Game Boy out of my pocket and started playing.

"Hey," someone said. I turned to see one of the girls from the yacht coming towards me. She was blonde and pretty, dressed in a bright blue shirt with a white jacket and jeans. "Haven't seen you here before."

"I'm here with my dad," I said, shading my eyes against the sun. "He's investigating the death of that runner."

She nodded. "Your dad's a cop?"

"Yeah," I said. I watched her nose squinch up, and then she shrugged.

"What happened to the runner?"

"She drowned in the shower," I said. "It was in the papers."

"So why is that suspicious?" she asked, leaning back on her heels, her arms crossed in front of her stomach. I didn't like the haughty look on her face.

"Who drowns in the shower?" I asked condescendingly. "What do you do, breathe in all the water that's flowing from the shower head?" I rolled my eyes.

The girl's eyes widened as if she were going to take offense, but then she smiled. "Wanna come hang out on our yacht? My sister and her boyfriend would love to hear the details."

I thought about it for about one second, and then I shook my head. "No, my dad told me to wait here."

"Who cares?" she asked. "He'll find you. You have a phone right? He can just call you."

I considered it and started to stand up. Then I said, "No," and dropped my foot back over the seawall. "I'd better not. You don't know my dad."

"Ok, well if you pass by later, maybe you can just stop in and say hi. I'm Hannah."

I shrugged. "Sure," I said. "I'm Jessie." She headed back up the sidewalk towards her yacht, and I went back to playing on my Game Boy.

Another twenty minutes passed, and Sam and Dean came out. I got up and joined them. Dean gave me a little side-hug and let me go. I followed along behind them as we walked up the sidewalk back towards the car. I listened to them talk about the ghost ship. Then I saw Hannah and her sister. I went to interrupt Sam, but it seemed awkward. Besides, pretty soon we'd be past the ramp down to the yacht. I figured I could just run down there, say hi, give the rundown on what I knew, and then catch back up to Sam and Dean in a couple of minutes. They wouldn't even know I was gone.

I scampered down the ramp to their yacht. "Hey," I said. "I only have a couple minutes."

Hannah stood up and said, "Hey, you came. Awesome. This is my sister Julie and her boyfriend Chuck. This is Jessie."

Julie looked just like Hannah, only fifteen and with a straighter nose. "So, the woman who died?" I said, "She drowned in the shower."

"Man, Sheila dying in the shower," Chuck shook his sandy-brown head. "That sucks. She was hot."

Julie smacked his arm. "Shut up," she said and giggled. I made a face. Were all rich girls airheads? Hannah hadn't seemed entirely that way. Julie turned her gaze on me. "Did someone like hold her head under water or something?"

"No, and that's what's weird. It's almost impossible to drown in a shower. And I know she saw some sort of a clipper ship beforehand," I said. "A death omen."

"Oooh, a ghost ship," Hannah said. "Now that's the kind of detail that I want to hear about. What kind of a ship was it?"

I shrugged, searching my brain for what Sam and Dean had been talking about. "Uh, three-masted?"

"That is so cool!" Julie squealed. "Just like _The Black Pearl_ in _Pirates of the Caribbean_!"

"Trust you to find something to tie it back to fuckin' Johnny Depp," Hannah said, rolling her eyes. "She wants Johnny Depp to take her virginity, preferably dressed as a pirate."

"Shut up!" Julie said, with a lot more heat and hit her sister hard.

"Ow!" Hannah said, rubbing her arm. "Bitch."

"Hey, listen," I said. "Did Sheila have anything weird or different happen to her? You know, before she died in the shower, like when she was a kid or anything?"

"She was in a car wreck when she was a teenager. Her cousin was in the car with her," Chuck said. "He died. He was my brother's best friend." He looked sad.

"Jessie!" I heard. I turned to see Sam at the top of the ramp, beckoning to me.

"Oh, gotta go." I said, turning around.

"Is that your dad?" Hannah asked.

"No," I said, "my uncle. Bye."

Behind me, I head Julie say, "Her uncle is hot. Did you get to see her dad?"

Shaking my head, I ran up the ramp and when I got to the top, Sam ushered me in front of him, walking quickly to where the car had been. "What's going on?" I asked, having to jog a little to keep from being run over.

"The car got towed," Sam said. "And Dean's wondering why the hell you don't have your phone on you. He's been trying to reach you for the last five minutes." We reached the steps that led to the parking lot, and Sam ushered me up those as well. Dean took one look at me and snapped his phone closed.

"Where the hell have you been?" he demanded. "You take off, no one knows where you are, and you're not answering your damn phone." I took a step back, and Sam stepped in front of me.

"Dean, calm down," Sam said, hands out in front of him in a soothing gesture. "I found her, now let's go get the car from the impound lot."

Dean ran his hand down his face. "Fine. Let's go." Dean hailed a cab and the three of us got into the back seat.

"How'd the car get towed?" I asked after a minute. "I saw Dean put in more than enough meter money for the time."

"Bela," they both said together.

"Who's Bela?" I asked.

"She's a selfish bitch," said Dean. "And where the hell were you?" He was that mixture of mad and worried that always got me in the most trouble. I started to get a little scared.

"Some kids wanted to talk to me," I said defensively. "So I stopped. It was no big deal."

"Without telling anyone?" Dean asked. "You can't just say, 'I'll meet up with you in a minute?'"

"You guys were talking," I said, looking down at my hands in my lap. "I didn't want to interrupt. I was only going to be a couple of seconds. You weren't even going to know I was gone."

"Really?" Dean asked, "Then why weren't you only a couple of seconds because I've got news for you, Jessie, we noticed you were gone."

I squirmed and rubbed my neck. "I dunno. We were just talking."

"Fine," Dean said. "Then where's your phone? Why couldn't I reach you?"

I patted the pockets of my jacket. "I thought that it was in my coat," I said, face flushing. It was particularly embarrassing to be having this discussion in the back of a cab where the driver could hear every word.

"You lost your phone?" Dean asked angrily.

"Dean…" Sam said.

Dean shook his head and ran his hand down his face. "Jesus, Jessie, you didn't even have it for two weeks. Where the hell did you leave it?"

"I'm sorry, Dean."

"And why are you only now finding out it's missing? I told you to always have it on you. You should be checking for it before we go anywhere. You should be charging it every day. Damn it, we talked about this."

"I'm sorry, Dean," I said again. I was starting to get really upset, tears forming in my eyes. "I didn't mean to lose it. I didn't mean to worry you."

"Dean, calm down," Sam said. "We've got her; we're going to get the car. It's all ok."

"I just," Dean shook his head. "I was thinking about when she took off six weeks ago, and then when Bela showed up, I thought she might have 'acquired' her or something." He ran his hand down his face again. The cab pulled to a stop. "I don't know. We'll talk about it more later. Just…" Dean got out of the cab in a rush.

Sam shooed me in Dean's direction and paid the cabbie. "Sorry about the upset," Sam said. I got out of the car and walked over to Dean. He was staring at the impound lot. I tugged on his sleeve.

"I'm sorry, Dean, really," I said, feeling guilty and horrible for worrying him. He turned around and pulled me close to him.

"You scared the crap out of me, little girl," Dean said.

I hugged him back. "More than your car being gone?" I teased.

"I wouldn't go that far," Dean said.

Sam had to go in and get the car out of impound, because Dean was 'more wanted'. When we were far enough away from the lot, we pulled over so Dean could check the trunk and everything else in, about, and around the car. After digging around in the floorboard of the back seat, he came up with my phone, which had ten missed calls all from Dean.

He handed it to me and then put his finger under my chin to make me meet his eyes. "The next time that phone is not on you when I call you, or has no battery, or you've turned it off, or any other of a thousand reasons why your negligence means I can't reach you, you're going over my knee, and I'll use the hairbrush. You understand me, little girl?"

"That seems like an overreaction," I started, but I swallowed when he raised his eyebrows at me.

"The only thing I want to hear from you right now is 'Yes, Dean'," he said, looking me straight in the eye.

"Yes, Dean," I said softly.

"Good girl, now get in the car."

"Maybe the car needs a phone," I muttered to myself, low enough that neither of them could hear me.


	6. Chapter 6 - All at Sea

We spent the evening with them in research mode and me working on my assignments. The way Sam was pushing me through them, I was almost caught up to where a normal sixth-grader would be. I'd discovered that I liked a lot of the stories in my Language Arts book and was actually spending time when I didn't have to be studying just reading the stories in the book. I was about halfway through the book, although I was only answering the questions when I got to the specific assignment to do so.

When Dean took me out to the woodpile to burn off the excess fire again, I was no better at directing the flame than before. I wondered if there was something I was missing, and I really wished I had access to the internet to see if any of the psychic websites out there had any kind of hint that I could take. If I could just get more control of the flame, then I just knew they'd let me come with them hunting. They'd let me help, and I knew I could be useful.

After I went to bed, Dean went out for a while Sam, but Dean was the one waking me up early the next morning. "Get moving," he said gently. "We've got another death and a witness to question."

I hurried out of bed, eager to please after getting into trouble the day before and still feeling guilty about how worried I'd made them. I got dressed quickly and stuffed my phone in the pocket of my jacket, bounding down the stairs only about ten minutes after Dean had woken me. Sam handed me another one of the English muffin sandwich things and some orange juice, and we headed out to the car.

When we pulled up to the scene, there were lots of police in uniforms and a woman was holding a recorder up to a man's face in front of the house.

"Son of a bitch," Dean said. "Sam…"

"I see her. Let's go." They drove around the block so that the car wasn't able to be seen from the house. They got out of the car.

I started to open my door to follow them, but Dean pushed it shut. He bent down and said, "Stay in the car. That's Bela. I don't want her to see you. I don't want her to know about you. Stay here." I could tell he was serious.

"Yes, Dean," I said. I leaned back in the seat and watched them walk away. Ten minutes later, I looked up from my book to see them walking back to the car. I popped my head out of the window. "What happened?"

"Turns out they were brothers, and they both saw the ship while they were night diving," Dean said, going around the car to the trunk. "We don't know what the link is between the victims yet, though. We're going to have to stake him out so we can try to save him."

"Can I get out of the car now?" I asked. Sam gestured that I could, so I went around the back and watched them find shotguns in the trunk.

"I found something out from those kids yesterday about Shelia, Mrs. Case's niece," I said. "They told me that she was in a car accident when she was younger and that her cousin died in the accident." I thought a second. "Also, _The Black Pearl_ from _The Pirates of the Caribbean_ is a three-masted ghost ship." I paused. "That probably doesn't help, though."

Sam hid a small smile. "_The Black Pearl_ doesn't really help, but the other bit might be useful later when we have more information about the other victims."

"Bela's still around, so get back in the car, Jessie," Dean said. I shrugged and obeyed, picking up where I'd left off in _The Island of the Blue Dolphins_ while I waited for them. A couple of minutes passed, and I heard a melodious British voice from behind the car. Assuming it was Bela, I ducked down in the seat, lying down so that she couldn't see me unless she looked directly into the car.

I listened as the guys spoke with her. When they came around the car to get in, I saw Dean glance into the back seat to see me lying out of sight. He gave me a slight nod of approval and relaxed a little.

When Dean got into the car, he said, "Good girl." I beamed, pleased that I'd done the right thing. "All right, we've got until tonight. Let's go get some supplies."

We drove back to the house and while the guys changed into more comfortable clothes, I hung out downstairs. Why the hell didn't Dean want Bela to see me or even know about me? The way he reacted to her made me think that she might be a threat to my safety. On the way back to stake out the house, I decided to ask him.

"She's like a hunter," Dean said. "Only she steals occult objects and sells them to the highest bidder. Think about what she would do with you if she knew about you. There are a lot of people who would want to use you for their own purposes, as a weapon, as a research project, or just as something to own. No, Bela Talbot needs to know nothing about you."

"I have no problem with that," I said in a small voice.

We'd been staking out Peter Warren's house for about an hour, with me on my Game Boy, before Peter came down and started confronting Sam and Dean. They got out of the car to calm him down, but they weren't able to. I didn't see it, but the ghost attacked while he was trying to flee, and the poor guy died in the front seat of his car.

The ride back to the house was tense. We listened to a garbled weather report about a storm closing in on the area, and then Dean flipped off the radio angrily and told Sam that they can't save everyone. Neither of them was particularly comforted by the thought, and Sam told Dean that lately it felt like he couldn't save anyone. I knew he was talking about saving Dean, and I decided right then that I'd do anything I could to help Sam save Dean from going the hell.

When we got back to the house, both of them were distracted. Sam was staring into books by candlelight, but not reading, and Dean was pacing and thinking. I waited for a while and then eventually asked Dean if he could take me out to the woodpile.

As I stood in front of the mostly burned woodpile, I decided to try something different. I'd been just opening the furnace door and pushing the flames at the pile. The flames would rush out of me and hit the wood like the stream from a fire hose. Maybe if I did it more slowly… So this time, when I opened the furnace door, I tried to go slower. I tried to not just push the flame at the wood, but to control the stream somewhat so that it didn't go quite so fast or hard.

When only a two-foot radius went up, I cheered, startling Dean out of his thoughts. "What? What happened?"

"Dean, it was awesome! I was able to slow down the flame so that it didn't hit quite so big an area of the wood!"

He frowned. "Are you trying something different with your powers without telling me about it, first?"

"I'm trying to control it more," I said, unabashed.

"Jessie, what the hell did I say when you were working with Bree? I said that I need to know that what you're practicing is something that she thinks you're capable of doing. Did you talk about this new thing with Bree?" he demanded, clearly disconcerted.

Stung, I said, "No, I don't have her number."

"I'm sure we can call Bobby and get it, but no more trying new things until Bree says that the thing you're trying is ok, got it?" He crossed his arms over her chest and waited.

"Dean, I can figure this stuff out on my own," I objected. "I'm not stupid. I know my powers."

"I don't care, Jessie. I want you to run each thing by Bree first, until she says you're ok to try things on your own. It's too dangerous."

"That's not fair!" I said, stomping my foot.

"What's not fair? That you have to make _a phone call_ before you can try something new? Too bad. You're going to do it because it's for all of our safety and because I said so. Do you understand me?"

"Dean…" I started, but then realized that it was going to do no good to argue. I sighed. "Ok."

"Now, finish burning off the excess in the normal way, and tomorrow we'll call Bobby and get Bree's number," Dean said, mollified. I sighed again, turned to the woodpile, and just pushed out all of the excess fire, like normal.

I went to bed mad. I knew what I was doing. I didn't need Bree's ok.

They let me sleep myself out the next morning. It was around ten when I rolled out of bed and got dressed, heading downstairs to join them. Sam was back at his books, searching for any answer that he might be able to find about how to stop the ghost ship. Dean was just getting off the phone with Bobby as I clamored down the stairs.

"Did you get Bree's number?" I asked, grabbing him and hugging him.

"No. Sorry, sweetheart. I forgot. You can call him later and ask him," Dean said. He kissed the top of my head. I was disappointed.

Sam looked up from his book as I hugged him from the side of his chair. "What do you need Bree's number for?"

I rolled my eyes. "I have to ask her if it's ok if I try a new thing with my abilities. Dean says so."

"Dean's right," Sam said. "You want to run before or after breakfast?"

"Before," I said. "After makes me feel kinda sick."

"Well, get going. Run the yard a few times," he nodded toward the back door.

I ran back upstairs to change into my workout clothes. Faintly, I could hear Dean asking Sam, "What does she need to go run for?"

"It's training, Dean. What if she's somewhere with us and she needs to run and all she's done for months is sit on her butt in a car and study? It's not safe. She's got to be able to do some stuff and to know some stuff just to travel with us."

"I don't want her to be a hunter, Sam."

"That's not what I'm doing," Sam said. "I'm just making sure she doesn't get killed while she's with us. I want her safe, too."

I finished changing and ran down the stairs and out the back door to run around the huge acre yard again until I was tired. I ran up the house to see Sam on the back porch watching me. "One more time," he said.

"But I'm tired," I complained, putting my hands on my knees and panting.

"You think that the bad guys are going to care if you're tired? One more time."

I shrugged and ran another lap, only this time a lot slower. When I got back, Dean showed me how to do pushups and sit-ups. Then they banished me to the shower.

A few hours later, I was finishing up my schoolwork for the day when someone knocked on the door. I jumped. Dean and Sam each pulled a gun. Dean pointed to floor, and I got down under the table. Dean went to the front door and looked through the peephole. When he saw who it was, he pointed to me and then pointed at the stairs. He put his finger over his lips. I nodded and tiptoed up the staircase while Sam put away his gun. Once I was up the stairs, Dean opened the door.

At the top of the stairs, I turned right and sat down in the hallway with my back against the wall so that I could hear them, but couldn't be seen by anyone unless they actually climbed the stairs. I heard Bela's voice. She said she'd identified the ship, but then she stopped.

"Lovely backpack, Dean. I'd never have expected you to like rainbow leopard print. And… studying fractions, are we?" I heard a book thunk on the table.

"None of your business, Bela," Dean said, resignation in his voice. "Tell us about the ship."

"If there's someone else here, I want to meet her first," Bela said.

"Get out," Dean said. "We didn't invite you here and we don't need your help."

"Dean," I heard Sam say. I knew he was giving Dean a meaningful look.

"All right, fine!" Dean growled out angrily. "Jessie, come down here."

My heart plummeted. I got up and went down the stairs, worried and scared. I knew Dean wouldn't let anything happen to me, but I was still frightened. I resolved to keep my fire firmly to myself. She might have to meet me, but she didn't have to know anything about me.

Dean was sitting in my spot at the table. I crossed behind Sam to stand between the two of them. Dean wrapped one of his arms around me protectively and I felt better.

"You didn't have a little girl the last time I saw you," Bela said, smiling a sly smile. "What did you do to get this lovely?"

Dean cleared his throat. "This is my daughter," he said, looking uncomfortable.

"Why Dean, you must've been a teenager when you knocked up her mother. Such a bad boy," Bela cocked her head to the side and smiled down her nose at him. I could see why this woman irritated the two of them so much. She raised her eyebrows at me. "What kind of daddy is he?"

"All right," Sam interrupted. "You've met her. Now tell us about the case."

Bela relented and went into this long explanation about a sailor on a merchant vessel who was charged with treason and hanged. They'd cut off his hand to make a hand of glory and that counted as remains. Bela told them that she needed help to get the hand so they could burn it. Turned out the help was kind of amusing. She needed an escort for herself and Mrs. Case to a charity ball that was being held at the museum that night. Mrs. Case had the invitation and had agreed to let them come as long as Sam was the one who escorted her. Sam and Dean agreed. Bela left with a promise to return with the appropriate clothing for the guys to wear.

As soon as she was out the door, I said, "Sorry, Dean. I should've taken my school stuff with me upstairs."

"It's ok, sweetheart. You did really good, perfect. We just have to keep her from knowing about your abilities, and it will be fine." He stood up and hugged me. "Let's go get some food before she gets back with the monkey suits."

After dinner, Bela showed up in an elegant black dress and handed the guys a tuxedo apiece. They both got ready and Sam took Bela's car to go pick up Mrs. Case. Dean was taking much longer than Sam had, and Bela had to wait for him.

I was sitting at the table reading my novel by candle light, ignoring Bela. She wasn't ignoring me though. She was watching every move I made. "Where did you come from?" Bela asked me after ten minutes of silence.

"The normal place," I said. "Don't you know how babies are made?" I did not look up from my book.

"Come on, don't be like that. We could be friends. I bet it's lonely on the road with just the two of them for company."

"I love them, and I'm not supposed to talk to _you_," I said. No one had actually told me that, but it seemed like the kind of thing that would make her leave me alone.

"Are you really Dean's daughter?" she asked, coming to stand next to me and putting her hand on my shoulder. I stood up in a rush, pushing the chair over and half jumping backwards towards the fireplace to get away from her.

"Don't touch me," I said, holding the book in front of me as if it were some sort of shield.

She looked startled. "All right," she said. She gave me a considering look and then called to Dean to hurry up. I picked my chair up and sat back down at the table. The flames of the candles danced in front of me, calling to me. I ignored them, but it was hard. It was around the time I normally let the excess go for the day.

Dean came down, looking very handsome in his tux. He and Bela, who seemed to appreciate the outfit, went to leave, but once she was outside, he came back in for a minute. "We won't be out that late. Can you hold it in until we get back?" he asked.

"Yes," I said.

"Good girl," he replied.

I smiled at him. "Have a good time," I said. He rolled his eyes and left. I listened to the Impala drive off.


	7. Chapter 7 - Batten Down the Hatches

I had a whole house to myself and nothing much to do. I checked the time on my phone. It was a little past eight, so I called Bobby. We talked about how I was doing and what he was doing and I asked him if he had Bree's number. I told him about Bela, and he gave me the same warning that Dean had, that she shouldn't know about my abilities. Then he told me to be good and we said good-bye.

I programmed Bree's number into my phone and then sat there, considering. Dean wasn't here, but I could still call her and get her advice on what I wanted to do.

"The child needs something?" Bree asked after I told her who it was.

"I'm trying to figure out how to better direct the flame. Right now, I can let it out really slowly and it hits a smaller area, but I want to be able to actually light one log on fire in a woodpile or something like that. Right now, it's everything. And Dean said that I shouldn't be trying to do anything new unless I talked to you first," I finished.

"Dean is right. The child does not have enough experience yet to know what she can and cannot do."

"Ok, so can you help me?" I asked, a little impatient.

"The child needs to consider: does one use a flamethrower to light a candle, or does one use a match."

"Dean uses a lighter," I said, annoyed. "And I _know_ that. I just don't know how to make my fire into a lighter."

"The child would do well to consider the difference between a flamethrower and a lighter," Bree intoned.

"Jesus, Bree," I said. "Can't you just tell me?"

"The child needs to learn how to think about her flame as well as how to use it."

I rolled my eyes and resisted the urge to throw the phone across the room. "Ok, thanks Bree. I'll think about it, but is it ok for me to practice it?"

"Of course," Bree said, her voice practically tinkling. "And the child may call at any time."

Despite myself, I smiled. "Thanks. I'll tell Dean you said hi." I hung up.

I dropped onto the couch and considered. The difference between a flamethrower and a lighter was really size. A flamethrower was huge and the flame kind of jetted out, while a lighter was much smaller and the flame just kind of danced merrily on top, well, unless it was a Zippo. So what could I do to make a smaller and less powerful flame? A smaller opening for it to go out!

I couldn't wait to try it, but I knew Dean would have my head if I didn't wait. My excitement was making the pressure increase at the back of my head. I knew I could do it. Dean would kill me, though. I decided to wait until he got back. I just had to find something to do until then. Something to distract me.

I picked up the novel I'd been reading and plunked down in my chair at the table. The candles flickered, the flame calling to me. I ignored it, but that lasted all of about five minutes before I gave up. I was paying more attention to the candle flame than I was to the book. I couldn't remember anything I had read.

I dropped the book on the table and scooped up my Game Boy. I glanced one more time at the candles on the table, reminded myself that Dean would kill me, and sat down on the stairs, far enough from the candles that I could only glimpse them from the corner of my eye. I managed to do that for about an hour, and then the Game Boy battery died and without electricity, I had no way to charge it.

By now the pressure was getting harder to ignore, and I was starting to itch a little. I ran my nails over my scalp. The candles danced, teasing me. I scratched my arms and sighed. Maybe just a little fire. I'd do it in the fireplace so it would be safe.

I got up and took the candles from the table and the mantle, blowing each one out, and set them among the detritus in the bottom of the fireplace. I arranged them so that there was as much space between them as possible. I stood about three feet in front of the fireplace and imagined the furnace inside me was smaller, tighter, with a much smaller door. Just imagining that made the pressure increase in my head to the point of almost needing to let it out. It was like having to pee really bad and having someone push on your bladder.

I had a moment of guilt and started to second guess myself, but the pressure was too much with me clamping down like this, so I picked one of the candles and aimed the flame at it. Then I opened the tiny furnace door.

The fire shot out of me in a high-pressure stream. When it hit the candle and the floor of the fireplace, the candle exploded into a million drops of melted wax and the force of the continuous stream shot me backward, across the room and into the wall. I banged my head and let go of the flame, sliding into a heap onto the floor. Dizzy and breathless, I shook my head and lifted it to see the fireplace, the wall, and my chair in front of it burning brightly.

Fuck! I staggered to my feet, braced myself, and pulled the flame back into me, imagining the furnace as its normal size. The flame had grown since I had let it go, and there was more than I could contain. When it was all back inside me, I staggered out the back door and ran to the woodpile. I braced myself again and set the woodpile on fire, pushing all of the flame into it until it was gone and the fire was out. I sat down on the ground hard and buried my face in my hands.

Dean was going to kill me, and I so deserved it.

I dragged myself to my feet and went back into the house. The candles were gone, and the fireplace and wall above it were scorched black. My chair had toppled over, the legs burned too badly to allow it to stand, and my backpack, which had been on the back of the chair, was rainbow leopard no longer. I could only hope that the books inside were still usable.

I was exhausted, and my head was pounding from trying to hold in more fire than I could contain. I was covered in soot and smelled like smoke. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone. I considered calling Dean and just telling him now, but I didn't want to mess up their mission. I was so tired. I took one last look at the chaos and went upstairs to the room I was staying in, a hard ball of guilt, shame, and dread in my stomach.

I fell asleep as soon as I lay down, too exhausted to stay awake. I don't know how long I was asleep but I woke right up when I heard Dean yell, "Jessie, get your ass down here!" When I didn't answer right away, he added, "Right now!"

I flushed and hollered back, "Coming, Dean." I knew that I did not want him to come looking for me. I got up and trudged down the stairs as slow as I dared, not wanting to face either of them. When I got to the bottom of the stairs, I turned and saw both of them standing to the left of the fireplace with their arms crossed in front of their chests, Sam slightly behind Dean. Both looked furious.

"Hi," I said. I bowed my head and looked up at them from under my bangs.

"Don't you 'hi' me, little girl." Dean pulled a chair out from the table and pointed to it. "Sit." It was never good when they made me sit down. I dragged my feet over and sat down in the chair. Sam walked to the other side of the table. New candles flickered in the center of the table, lighting the room.

Dean put one hand on the back of the chair and the other on the table and leaned over me. "You wanna explain that?" He pointed to the scorch marks.

"Not really," I whispered, shame suffusing me.

"Jessie!" Dean snapped. I jumped.

"I'm sorry!" I said. "I couldn't help it!"

"That's not an explanation. Tell me what happened! Now!"

It came out in a rush. "I called Bree and she said that I could try to do the thing I wanted to try and talked to me about how and I tried to wait because I knew you'd be mad but it got late and then there was pressure and itching and I couldn't resist any more and I screwed it up and lit the fireplace on fire." Tears were coming down my cheeks, unbidden. "I'm sorry! I know I messed up."

Dean stood up, throwing his hands in the air. "Messed up? I'll say you messed up. We can't leave you alone for one evening without you half burning down the house we're staying in. You should be ashamed of yourself."

"I am," I cried. "I'm sorry. Please, Dean. I misjudged and instead of just lighting the candle on fire I made it explode and I pushed myself into the wall and knocked myself silly. That's when the fireplace went up because I let go of the flame when I hit the wall. I should have waited for you."

Sam and Dean shared a look. Next thing I knew, Dean tilted my head forward and was checking the back of it. "Not that hard," I said. "I didn't get knocked out, just dizzy."

"What did you do when you the fireplace went up?" Sam asked while Dean checked me over.

"I pulled it back into myself, but it was too much, so I ran out and burned up the rest of the woodpile," I said. Dean finished looking at my head and let me go. "We're going to need to go somewhere else to burn if we're staying here another day."

Dean moved to the other side of me and leaned over me again. "How many times are we going to have this discussion?" he asked. "How many times do I have to tell you not to light fires without one of us here and the proper safety equipment?"

"This is the last," I whispered, unable to meet his eyes.

"It better be," Dean said. He turned away and walked towards the door, wiping his face with his hand. I looked at Sam for help, but he was just as pissed as Dean was.

"I swear," I said to both of them, "I'm so sorry. I should never have endangered myself. You've told me the rules over and over. I should've listened."

"Damn right you should have listened," Sam said. "Do you value your life so little that you want to kill yourself playing around with your abilities?"

"The fire can't hurt me," I objected.

"No, but knocking your head around can," Sam said. "And if you don't care about your own life, how about how we feel about you? How do you think we'd feel if we came back and found you seriously hurt or dead?"

I blanched. "I'm sorry, Sam. I didn't think about that."

"No, you didn't think about that. All you seem to think about is what you want, when you want it, and how you want it. You are selfish and self-centered. You never consider why we make the rules we make. You just run off and do whatever you want, completely disregarding us."

I started crying. "I don't mean to," I said.

"Go get your hairbrush," Dean said, turning around to face me and leaning against the fireplace mantle.

I gasped. "Dean, no! Please."

"Now!" Dean growled. I jumped up and ran up the stairs to get it.

I stood in the middle of the room, staring at my bag of clothes. Sam was right. I was selfish. I only barely ever considered what they wanted and even when I did, I did what I wasn't supposed to anyway. They cared about me so much, and I never ever did what they wanted me to. I never kept myself safe.

Dean was going to kill me, and I so deserved it.

"You have until the count of three to get down here, little girl," Dean called. "One…"

I jumped, dug into the bag, pulled out the wood-backed hairbrush, and skidded into the hall as I heard "Two…"

I ran down the stairs hitting the bottom as he said, "Three." He walked over to me, took the hairbrush, grabbed my arm, pulled me over to the chair, sat down, and pulled me over his lap.

There was no warm-up hand spanking. The hairbrush just came down on my jeans over and over. I clutched his leg and cried, kicking my legs. He brought the brush down ten times, and then he stopped and put me on my feet only long enough to unbutton my jeans and yank them down to my knees. Back over his knee I went, the brush landing hard on my panty-covered bottom. It took my breath away and suddenly I was gasping. I stopped trying to count the swats and just wailed.

He set me on my feet and stood up. I rubbed my eyes and tried to stop crying, but then Sam was sitting down and taking the brush from him. "No, Sam, please," I said. Sam shook his head at me and pulled me over his lap, bringing the brush down again. "You need to think about how your behavior affects us, young lady," he scolded as he spanked. "Stop thinking only about yourself. We are a family, and you need to consider us before you make your decisions. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Sam," I sobbed. I was too tired and too sore to think, but he only brought the brush down a few more times before he was done. He set me on my feet and yanked up my jeans, buttoning them deftly.

Dean took the brush from him and handed it back to me. "Get upstairs, put that away, and get in the shower. You're covered in soot, and you smell like smoke. Put your PJs on. Think about what we said. Go. Now."

I accepted the brush and got out of there as quickly as possible, obeying everything he'd said to do. By the time I was done showering, I'd calmed down. My butt was sore, though. It hurt when I pulled my flannel pajama pants on. When I was done, I went back down the stairs to find Dean standing in front of the fireplace looking at a glass bottle.

"I'm ready for bed," I said in a soft voice. He set the bottle down on the charred mantle and came over to me, pulling me close to him. "I'm sorry, Dean. I'll try harder. I promise."

"I know you will, sweetheart," he said, hugging me tight. "Go to bed. Tomorrow is a new day."

When he let me go, I went over to Sam, who was sitting at the table reading one of his books. He set the book down and pulled me into his lap. "I'm sorry, Sam. I don't want to be selfish," I said, hugging his neck. His huge arms closed around my back and hugged me to him. "I'll do better. I love you both so much and you've done so much for me and I want to make you happy."

"Ok, honey. It's ok. We love you, too. Go on to bed and get some sleep." He set me on my feet.

Dean took my hand and led me up to my bedroll and tucked me in. He brushed my bangs back and kissed my forehead before leaving the room and closing the door most of the way. I listened to him go back down the stairs. Then I closed my eyes and fell asleep.


	8. Chapter 8 - Tide Over

I woke up when I heard someone knock on the door. I crept out of my room and lay down on the landing, angling myself so that I could see who it was. It was Bela, and Sam and Dean both looked mad. They sat her down in the same seat that Dean had scolded me in and questioned her about the missing hand of glory that she had apparently stolen from them. The difference was that they were much colder, much angrier, and much happier with her misery than they ever were when they were yelling at me. I'd never seen them like this and I really didn't like it. I hoped that I never did anything that would make them treat me like that.

Bela admitted that she'd seen the ship, and Sam and Dean revealed that because the captain of the ship was the hanged sailor's brother, the ghost ship was going after people who had spilled their own family's blood. My heart plummeted. If I had been anywhere near the seafront at night, at all…

Sam and Dean were still questioning Bela, only now about who she'd killed for the spirit to come after her. I slid down to the top step, hugged my knees, and forced myself to breathe through my panic. Bela wouldn't tell, even after they threatened not to help her. She said she was going to do what she'd always done and take care of it herself. Then Sam outlined the possibility of summoning the spirit's dead brother from the local cemetery and giving the spirit a chance for revenge. They started to gather the materials.

I couldn't handle the panic any longer and crept down the stairs, standing on the bottom step in my t-shirt and flannel pajama bottoms. After only a minute, Dean saw me standing there and came over to me.

"What are you doing up, Jessie? We sent you to bed two hours ago," he said. I started crying.

"She spilled her family's blood," I whispered, so that Bela couldn't hear. "I killed my parents. I could have seen the ghost ship." I started hiccupping with sobs until I cried out, "Dean, I could have seen the ghost ship!"

He pulled me into his arms and stroked my hair. "No, sweetheart, no."

"It would have picked me! It would have killed me because of what I did! Oh my god, I'm a monster!" I sobbed. He held me tighter, lifting me into his arms and then sitting down on the steps to hold me in his lap.

"Shh, shh," he soothed. "We would never let that happen. We'd never let you die. Jessie, it wasn't your fault. It wasn't on purpose."

"Sheila probably didn't kill her cousin on purpose, and she got killed," I hiccupped into his shirt.

"Ghosts don't judge people fairly. Ghosts aren't rational. They're just angry and they hurt people because of that anger, whether they deserve it or not. Sweetheart, it wasn't your fault, and we wouldn't let anything like that happen to you. Ok?" he asked. I didn't answer, and he put a finger under my chin and lifted my tear-filled face so that he could look me in the eyes. "Ok?" he asked again. I nodded.

"All right," he said. "Let's get you back to bed. We're going to go get rid of Bela's ghost. We'll be back in a couple of hours."

He put me on my feet, and I looked over at Bela, who was watching us with tears in her eyes and envy on her face, but also an insatiable curiosity in her gaze. Dean glanced at her, too. "Don't worry about her," he whispered. "Let's get you to bed."

"Your daughter has a story," Bela started, keenly interested in me.

"We don't have to help you," Sam interrupted, moving in front of Bela's gaze.

Bela held up her hands. "Point taken."

Dean tucked me back into my bedroll. "I'm sorry, Dean," I said. "I just got so upset."

"It's ok," he said. "She still doesn't know anything. Stay in bed. Go back to sleep."

"Yes, Dean," I said.

The next day, I woke up to a silent house and found both of the guys still sound asleep. I had no idea what time they had come back, but I also didn't want to wake them. I read a little. I ran the yard again, doing the same number of laps as I had the day before including the extra one that Sam had assigned, and then I did pushups and sit-ups like Dean had shown me. When I got back, I showered. When I came out of the bathroom fully dressed, Dean came out of the room he was staying in. It was late in the afternoon.

"We're packing up to leave," he said. He ruffled my hair as he went by.

"Ok," I said. I rolled up my bedroll and stuffed my clothes into my backpack. My hand ran into the wood-backed hairbrush. I pulled it out of the backpack and looked at it. As I left the room, I stuck it into the rotting crib in the hallway, near the back and under the moldering mattress so that no one would see it. I'd just use a comb from now on, or maybe pick up a different, flimsier hairbrush at the next truck stop or convenience store.

I went downstairs and gathered up my books and Game Boy. I poked the formerly rainbow leopard backpack that was now sitting on the beaten-up old couch and came away with a black fingertip. I tried to unzip the backpack, but the plastic zipper was melted together. I sighed and stuffed my two novels and the Game Boy into my clothes backpack.

Since I could still hear the guys moving around upstairs, I decided to help out by packing up the stuff down here. I collected the library books into a stack on the corner of the table. We'd drop those back off on the way out of town. I started stacking up Sam's personal collection of books, one of which was an old leather book with a strap holding it closed and all sorts of bits of paper and stuff poking out of it. It had no title on the front of it or on the binding. Curious, I slipped the leather strap out of its binding and opened the book.

The page I opened to had all sorts of symbols and drawings on it, with text written in tiny neat letters all around them. I flipped to another page and saw by the text that it was someone's personal journal. Then a hand reached over my shoulder and snapped it shut. I looked up to see Sam standing there.

"Stay out of that," he said flatly. He turned to look at Dean, who was just coming down the stairs. He held the book up and Dean frowned.

"Stay away from that journal," Dean said, coming towards me.

"Ok," I said, holding up my hands in surrender. "I didn't know. I was just trying to help pack."

"Then help without going through our personal possessions," Dean said. He turned to pick up some of his stuff from around the main room and stuffed them into his duffel bag. Sam started packing up his books and putting his laptop into his leather satchel. I went back to considering my rainbow leopard backpack. What the hell was I going to do with it?

The front door opened. I jumped and whirled around, but the guys barely moved. It was Bela. Dean stood up, and I moved behind him. She paid the guys $5000 apiece for helping her out with the ghost ship so she wouldn't be in their debt. She said, "Goodbye, lads." Then she winked at me and walked out the front door.

Dean decided we'd go to Atlantic City so he could gamble away the money. Sam was dubious, but within the hour, we were on the road.

As we drove down the road, I watched the sun go down behind the trees. Sam turned around and lifted my burned backpack over the front seat and into the back. He'd cut a wide hole in the top next to the zipper.

"Check out the damage," he said. I opened the backpack and looked in. My notebooks, which had been closest to the blaze, were completely scorched and unusable, but the schoolbooks looked ok. I pulled out the schoolbooks and my other two novels, which had been the farthest away from the fire. The book covers were streaked with soot and the edges of the books were smoke-stained. I looked up at Sam.

"It doesn't seem too bad," I said hopefully.

"You're right. None of the books are too damaged, but you're repairing the damage that's there."

I looked at him blankly. "I don't know how to fix fire-damaged books," I said.

"Luckily, Bobby does," Sam said. "You get to wipe the covers clean and then use either an eraser or sandpaper on the edges of the paper to remove the damage."

"But not in the car," Dean said quickly.

I took a deep breath. "Ok, I guess." I looked at the burned backpack. "Can I have a new backpack?"

"I don't know," Dean said. "We've only got $10,000 to blow."

I smiled, set the backpack on the floor on the driver's side of the back seat, and leaned back in the car to enjoy the ride.

We drove for a while, and then Dean started telling Sam how he understood why Sam killed the Crossroads Demon and that Sam would be ok when Dean was gone. Sam was not receptive to his statement or his apology. I squirmed in the back seat as they argued, uncomfortable and unhappy. Dean completely ignored what Sam was saying, which only pissed Sam off more.

Atlantic City wasn't going to be much fun…


	9. Chapter 9 - Miss Behaving

Four days later, we were back in the Impala speeding down the road. Sam had heard news of blonde girls going missing, all from a particular club, and they suspected vampires based on a bunch of clues in the news story that I wasn't really sure of yet and that they didn't seem inclined to discuss in front of me.

"We should send her to Bobby's," Dean said, his knuckles white on the steering wheel.

"We don't have time, Dean. We'd have to drive halfway across the country and back, and by that time more people will be dead."

"We can't take her on a vampire hunt with us. It's too dangerous."

"We've got no choice."

"We could get room at another motel and put her up there until we're done," Dean suggested, pulling into crappy looking motel.

"After what happened the last time she was left alone for any length of time? I don't think so," Sam said.

Stung, I piped up from the back seat, "I'll stay out of the way. You won't have to worry about me."

Dean turned the car off and turned around. "If you don't follow orders exactly while we're on this hunt, I swear to god, I am sending you back to Bobby's and you are never coming on another hunt with us again, ever. Do you understand me?"

I flushed bright red. "Yes, Dean."

"This will be extremely dangerous. Vampires hunt by scent. There will be no point where we can relax our guard. You need to follow every order we give you, no exceptions." He was deadly serious.

"Yes, Dean," I whispered.

He turned to Sam. "How did Dad do this?"

Sam shrugged. "He mostly left us on our own and you in charge," Sam said. He looked up from the paper he was reading. "Let's get set up."

They spent the rest of the day doing preparations: sharpening their weapons, visiting the morgue to get dead man's blood, putting the blood in syringes, and that kind of stuff. I stayed in the hotel studying, reading, or watching TV, but when they weren't paying attention to me, I jotted down notes on vampires in one of my new notebooks. I'd lost the old one to the accidental fire in the old house, but there was no way I wasn't going to learn as much as I could about everything they did.

As the sun was going down, Dean beckoned to me. I climbed off my bed and followed him outside to a brush pile that the hotel had behind it. "Burn it," he said shortly. I looked at him questioningly. "We're not going to have time later. You need to get it out now." I shrugged, braced myself, and lit up the brush, burning it to ashes in seconds.

"All right, we're going to make some modifications to the room to make it safer. Stay away from the windows and door." He led me back to the room where Sam was dismantling the beds and putting the mattresses and box-springs against the windows and outside walls. Dean helped him. They left my roll-away bed as it was.

I flopped back on the roll-away and picked up my novel. I pretended to read it as they gathered up their weapons and syringes. Dean looked at me. "Be good," he said. "Stay away from the windows and door," he repeated.

I got up and hugged both of them, and they left. I listened to the Impala drive away with a hard knot in my stomach, hoping that they would make it back ok. Then, I realized that I was alone for the first time in days.

I started with Dean's duffel bag. I dug through his clothes, looking for the journal. It wasn't in his bag. Next, I dug through Sam's clothes in his bag, but it wasn't there either. That left the laptop bag. I found it in a pouch at the front of the bag. I lifted it out carefully, noting how it had been placed in there in the first place. I cradled it carefully in my hands and took it over to the roll-away bed. I flipped it open and started looking for information about vampires.

A half an hour later, I hadn't seen any mention of vampires, but there was a lot of information in this journal, all about the guys, apparently written by their dad, who was looking for truth on what happened to their mom. It was fascinating. It had all sorts of stuff that I didn't know in it. I leaned against the wall and settled in to read.

I woke up when the motel room door crashed open and Dean came in carrying a blonde girl over his shoulder. Shit! I had fallen asleep reading the journal! I quickly shoved it under my pillow and stood up.

"Get in the bathroom and shut the door," Dean said to me as Sam came in after him. "Do not come out until we give the ok." He paused a beat and when I didn't immediately act, he said, "Move!"

I jumped, grabbed the blankets off my bed, and hurried into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me and locking it. I doubted the flimsy lock would actually protect me if something went wrong, but I couldn't help it. I put my blankets into the bathtub and climbed in, settling down on top of them. It seemed cleaner, and maybe a little bit safer, than the floor.

The bathroom door was in no way sound-proof and I could hear Sam and Dean as they questioned the girl they had brought back. She was a vampire and they wanted to know where her nest was, but it turned out that she didn't know she was a vampire. Some guy had basically spiked her drink with vampire blood and turned her unawares. She said she could hear a heart pumping half a block away. They talked for a couple more minutes and then I heard her scream and a thud.

It was another forty-five minutes before Dean knocked on the bathroom door. I opened it and looked around the room. Nothing looked different. The girl was gone, but there was also no sign she had ever been there. "Time for bed," Dean said. He looked tired and worn down. Sam wasn't in the room. I grabbed my blankets from the tub and let Dean tuck me into bed. I fell asleep to the sound of the shower running, my hand under the pillow on the journal.

When I woke up the next morning, Sam and Dean were already up. Dean was gone and Sam was working on his laptop. I sat up and looked at Sam. "Should I go for a run?"

He didn't even look up from the laptop. "No. You're not leaving the room alone."

"It's daylight, Sam. They're vampires. They can't even go outside in the daylight."

"That's a myth," Sam said. "It just hurts their skin. They can still go out in it." He looked up. "Shower and get dressed. When Dean gets back, we'll go out for food."

I hesitated. The journal was still under my pillow. I wished I had a better place to stash it until I could get it back in Sam's laptop bag. I decided a little more cover than the pillow wouldn't hurt, so when I got up, I scooped up my blankets and dumped them on top of the pillow. Then I grabbed my clothes backpack and headed into the bathroom.

The day was basically a repeat of the previous. After Dean got back and we went out for some food, I spent the rest of the day studying, reading, watching TV, and basically staying out of their way as they prepared for the evening's hunt. Both of them were incredibly tense and I was trying to do everything I could to stay on their good sides, especially since I knew I had the journal under my pillow. So far they hadn't noticed it was missing. I could only hope that would continue.

Since I'd burned up the motel's brush pile the previous evening, Dean drove me to a local park, put a couple of bags of coal into a charcoal grill, and had me burn the charcoal. It worked surprisingly well. The charcoal took much more effort to burn, and it took longer to burn the smaller amount. We still went through four bags before the excess was burned off. Dean looked incredibly satisfied when we were done. I was pleased too. Burning the charcoal was way less noticeable than burning huge piles of wood or brush, and much easier to come by.

He took me back to the room and they left on their hunt. I got the same warning that I had the night before. Be good, and stay away from the windows and door.

It was the perfect time to put the journal back in Sam's satchel, but it was also a great chance to start reading it again. Curiosity won out, and I unburied the journal from under my pillow and opened it back up. I hadn't gotten very far the night before. The journal was handwritten and the words were all cramped together. Plus, sometimes I didn't know what the words meant, so I had to go look them up or write them down to look up later. After a couple of hours, I gave up reading and started flipping through the pages looking for information on vampires.

I jumped about a foot when Sam slammed the door open and then shut it behind him. He immediately went to the window to look out and I took the opportunity to shove the journal back under my pillow. I got up and took a couple of steps into the room to draw attention away from the bed. "Where's Dean?" I asked.

Sam sighed. "There were some complications. He should be here soon." He looked at me and looked at his watch. "You should be in bed. Go on, brush your teeth and put your PJs on." He went back to pacing the room and looking out the window now and then. I got ready for bed and he tucked me in. "Go to sleep," he said. "Dean's fine." He didn't sound too sure of that.

I rolled over so that I was facing the wall and waited, worrying whether or not Dean was even going to come back. I reached under my pillow and put my hand on the journal. I should've put it back when I had the chance. I just hadn't though Sam would be back so soon.

I lay there for an hour, listening to Sam pace the room. Finally, the door opened and Dean came in. Sam started yelling at him for risking himself and Dean brushed him off. Someone named Gordon was hunting them and Dean figured out that Bela was the one who had told Gordon where we were. Dean called Bela and after talking to her, told her in a deadly voice that he was going to kill her. It scared me.

Dean hung up, and I climbed out of bed and wrapped my arms around his waist. "Go back to bed, sweetheart," he said, stroking my hair.

"I can't sleep. Can I please stay up with you?" I asked. He sighed and scooped me up, putting me into a chair next to the table. He grabbed my blanket off of my bed and covered me with it. Then he and Sam got out their whetting stones to sharpen their knives. I curled into a ball in the chair and rested my head against the wall, watching them.

They discussed Gordon. Sam said that Gordon needed to die, and Dean was surprised at that but agreed with him. Then Dean's phone rang. Dean glanced at the screen and answered the phone with an angry "What?"

It was Bela. She told Dean where to find Gordon, mostly to prevent Dean from killing her. They hung up. The guys looked at each other. Dean said, "Let's go."

He picked me up and put me back in my bed. "Stay here, sweetheart. We'll be back soon."

"Promise?" I whispered, scared. I'd heard Bela's warning not to go after Gordon.

"Promise," he said. He tucked me in, turned out the light, and he and Sam left.

Not taking any more chances, I got up, dug out the journal, and put it back in Sam's satchel. I went back to bed, secure in the idea that I'd made sure I wasn't going to get caught.


	10. Chapter 10 - Miss Adventure

I stirred when they got back. When I woke up the next morning, they were already dressed. Dean was filling his pockets with various paraphernalia, and Sam was putting his pistol in its holster.

I yawned. "What's going on?"

"We didn't find Gordon last night. We're heading out to look some more," Dean said, shrugging into his jacket.

"Can I come?" I asked, getting out of the bed, eager to get out of the room.

"No," Dean said flatly.

"I'm tired of being locked up here, though. This is the third day. I only get to go out when we eat or when you let me burn something," I whined.

"Too bad. You'll live," Dean said. "And that's the point."

"But I'm bored," I said. "It's like being sick or something where I have to stay in bed all the time."

Dean leveled his gaze on me and I swallowed. "I said no," he said. I dropped my eyes. When he turned away I looked pleadingly at Sam.

"Don't turn those sad brown eyes on me," he said. "You're staying here. Get some school work done."

"This sucks," I muttered.

"You'll live," Dean repeated. "We won't be here much longer," he said in a kinder tone. "Be good and stay away from the windows and door." They headed out.

I scrounged up breakfast from the food we had in the room. I pulled out my Game Boy and played with it for a while. I did some pushups and sit-ups. I turned on the television and watched a really bad show.

About three hours after they had left the room, my cell phone rang. When I answered it, Dean asked, "Are you behaving?"

"Yes, Dean," I said, dropping onto my bed and putting my feet up on the wall. "I'm bored out of my mind, but I'm behaving."

"You didn't light anything on fire, did you?"

"No, Dean," I sighed, resigned.

"You're still in the motel room, right?"

"Yes! What's with the third degree?" I asked, annoyed. "I haven't done anything I'm not supposed to."

"Just making sure you're ok."

"Thanks," I said sarcastically.

'Be good," he said and hung up.

I snapped the phone closed. It was enough to make me want to misbehave. I wouldn't, though, not with the threat of never being allowed to be on a hunt with them again hanging over my head. With absolutely nothing better to do, I started working on my schoolwork.

Sam got back three hours after that. I was thrilled to see him. I jumped on him when he walked in the door.

"Did you find him?" I asked, pulling on his arm.

"No, and I looked all over the place." He let me hang on him for a minute and then gently disengaged my hands.

"Sam, can we please go for a walk?" I asked, trailing along after him. "I'm going crazy here."

"No. Stop asking." He grabbed his laptop bag and his laptop from the dresser and set them on the table.

I dropped onto my bed. "This is stupid," I said, pouting. When Sam didn't answer, I looked up to see him holding the journal, the strap of leather that kept it closed flapping. A hard ball of dread filled in my stomach as I realized that in my hurry, I had not put it away the way I had found it. My face went white.

Sam shook his head. "Well that answers the question of whether you've been in my bag," he said. "How much of it did you read?" I stared at him, unable to answer. "How much?" he snapped.

I jumped. "I dunno. It's got all that tiny writing in it. It's not the easiest thing to read," I said. I scooted back on the bed to get further away from him.

"Get in the corner," Sam said. I slid off the bed and headed to the corner that he was pointing at. I leaned my head against the wall. I wondered briefly how much trouble I was in. I wondered if this counted as not obeying orders. I wondered if I was going to be banished to Bobby's. I really hoped not.

I was in the corner for maybe ten minutes when the door opened and Dean came in, announcing that he had checked all sorts of motels, empty buildings, and warehouses and hadn't found Gordon. He walked past me and Sam and into the bathroom to wash his hands and his face. When he came out, he said. "What'd she do?"

I turned my head a little to see Sam pick up the journal. Dean shook his head and looked at me. I stuck my nose back in the corner before he could say anything. They left me to stew there while Sam pulled the SIM cards out of all three of our phones and smashed the phones so Gordon couldn't use them to track us.

Dean checked out the front window and then told Sam to stay at the motel. They got into a huge fight about Dean being afraid of going to hell and acting like he had nothing to lose, putting himself in danger right and left. Sam asked him to stop acting like that and to just be his big brother again. Dean relented and said that we'd hole up, spend the night at the motel, and cover our scents so that Gordon couldn't track us.

A few minutes later, Dean called me out of the corner. "What'd we tell you, huh?" he asked holding up the journal as I stood in front of him. "Do not touch this book."

"I know," I said. I looked down at the floor. The beige carpet was filthy. I was getting to be an expert on carpets.

"You've got no business being in it," Dean said. He dropped the book on the table. "You are not going to be a hunter, and you don't need to know what's in this book."

"Dean," Sam said, coming out of the bathroom. "You pretty much just handed her a reason to try and find it the very next time she's alone."

Dean threw up his hands. "What am I supposed to do, Sam? I don't want her hunting."

"Sam said that I have to know some stuff just to be safe while I'm with you," I said quietly. I dug my toe into the carpet, not daring to look at either of them. Dean flopped into a chair, clearly annoyed.

Sam said, "All right, how about this. Jessie, we will teach you some very basic things about hunting. Very basic. In exchange, you will stop digging through that journal and you'll keep up with your schoolwork without my prompting."

"Ok," I said hesitantly, waiting for the catch.

Dean leaned forward in his chair. "The minute you mess up, the minute you start misbehaving or disobeying us, or not doing your schoolwork, that's the first thing that goes. You'll stop learning anything about hunting until you prove yourself to us again."

"That's not fair," I said. "I get in trouble all the time!"

"You better see to that, then," Dean said. He smiled at Sam. "Good idea, Sammy." Sam rolled his eyes.

I started to turn away to go back to my bed when Dean said, "Hold it, little girl. We're not done here."

"We're not?" I asked.

"No," Dean said. "You're going to sit your butt down in that chair and write me some lines."

"Lines?" I whined.

"Yup, lines. Two hundred times: 'I will stay out of Sam and Dean's things', and then two hundred times: 'I will not read John Winchester's journal'."

"That's four hundred lines!" I complained.

"Well, we know the math lessons are working," Sam said. I glared at him.

"You can do it, or you can do it with a sore butt," Dean said.

"What a gracious offer," I said snidely, but I took a step back when he stood up. "Never mind," I said, dropping my gaze. Dean pointed to my new butterfly backpack. I walked over to it and pulled out a notebook and a pencil. I sat down at the table next to Sam's maps and opened to a blank page. "Who's John Winchester?" I asked.

"Our dad," Sam said. "Dean, you ready to go."

"Yup, let's go."

I turned around. "Where are you going? Can I come?"

Dean looked at me. "We're going to get new phones. You're being punished. You get to stay here and write."

"So not fair," I muttered, turning back to my notebook. They both left. I listened to the Impala drive off and was just happy that I'd gotten out of it without a spanking.

When they got back, I was almost finished with my first set of lines. Dean handed me my new phone, and took me outside to burn some charcoal in a miniature brazier he had gotten. After I'd done that, they started doing some extra preparation on the room while I went back to my lines. It was getting dark outside. Sam lit some horrible smelling herbs to mask our scent.

"The minute anything starts happening," Dean said to me, "you get into the bathroom, close the door, and lie down in the tub. Got it?"

"Yes, Dean," I said. We settled in to wait.

An hour or so passed and Dean's new phone rang. It was Gordon, calling them out. He had kidnapped some girl and was threatening to kill her if they didn't come to him. Dean hung up. "We gotta go. Stay here," he said to me. "Keep the door locked. Don't let anyone but us in."

"Yes, Dean," I said. They gathered up some stuff and raced out of there. I spent the next two hours finishing my lines. When they got back, they were beat to hell. Dean had a bite in his neck and Sam had a bloody nose. They told me that they'd killed Gordon. While Dean showered, I helped Sam put the room back to rights, then they crashed, exhausted from the ordeal.

I lay in my bed, thinking. I'd managed to make it through the entire hunt, locked in a motel room, with only one instance of getting in trouble. That was improvement in my book. I fell asleep wondering what the first thing they would teach me would be.

_I was surrounded by fire. It sang through me, poured from me. Everything was ablaze, but I wasn't. I was naked and surrounded by smoke, ash, and flame. Heat pounded through me and I reveled in it, felt it, pushed until the haze of pleasure faded._

_Oh, no, not this again. I got out of the bed and ran from the room. "Mom?" I yelled. "Dad?"_

_I ran down the hallway to their room, pushing through the burning door, the flame never touching me. The bed was empty. A dark-haired, middle-aged woman in a red dress stood at the foot of my parents' bed, watching me. "It doesn't have to be this way," she whispered. "You don't have to be a monster… I can show you. Let me show you."_

_I took a step back, and then another. I called the fire around me and pushed it toward her, but it deflected around her like she was protected by a dome. I turned and ran down the stairs, fire following after me in a stream. A firefighter picked me up, carrying me towards the door. I looked up the stairs to see the woman standing at the top. She turned into a column of flame and disappeared._

The next day, we headed out. We got about fifty miles down the road when Dean said, "The engine's got a rattle. We need to stop so I can look at her."

"Ok," Sam said. "Let's get some beers."

We pulled off the highway and into a gas station. We got out of the car, and I stopped to take a picture of an orange cat that was sleeping under the dumpster on the side of the store with my phone. It was so cute, I wanted to pet it. I got closer to the dumpster and reached out. The cat, who had been watching me warily the entire time, yowled, scratched me, and ran off.

"Fuck!" I said. I grabbed the scratched spot with my other hand, dropping the phone in the process. The phone hit a rock and the back plate and battery went flying off. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," I said quietly, looking behind me where the Impala was. It was still empty. That meant they were still inside the store. I picked up the pieces of the phone and shoved them back together. When I opened the clam-shell, though, the screen was cracked.

"Oh, man," I whispered to myself, my stomach starting to hurt. "They just got me this phone." I pressed the power button without much hope. Nothing happened.

"Jessie, get a move on," Dean hollered. I turned to see Sam and him filling a cooler with ice and beer and putting it in the car. I looked down at the phone and shook it up and down. I pressed the power button again. Nothing.

"Jessie," Sam called. Guiltily, I shoved the phone into my jacket pocket and ran back to the car.

"What the hell were you doing?" Dean asked.

"There was a cat," I said. I showed him my scratched hand.

"Didn't you ever learn not to pet stray animals?" Dean asked. He opened the trunk and pulled out the first aid kit. He cleaned the scratch with an alcohol pad and put a Band-Aid on it. "All right, get in the car."

I climbed into the car. Dean drove us a few more miles to somewhere off an unused road. He parked the car and popped the hood. Sam got out and got the toolbox out of the trunk.

I climbed out of the car and looked around. We were virtually in the woods. Shrubs, bushes, and scrub trees gave way to actual trees down at the bottom of a nearby hill.

"Hey," I said. "We're going to be here awhile. Can I go play in the woods some?"

"Yeah," Dean said. Sam handed him a beer. I ran down the hill into the woods. Dean called after me, "Don't light anything on fire. Don't go too far."

"Ok," I yelled back. I loved the woods. I wandered through them looking at the barren trees and telling myself fairy stories. I found a bunch of rocks and started building a little dome out of them for fairies to live in. When I got bored of that, I picked up a stick and wandered around, smacking tree trunks and looking for something else to do. Eventually, I found a stream and started following it upstream, picking up rocks along the way and tossing them to make them skip. The stream came from a cave at the top of the hill. It was dark inside, and I didn't have a flashlight. I reached into my pocket to get my phone and remembered that it was completely broken.

The phone wasn't working and I was somewhere in the woods, far away from Sam and Dean. A little panicked now, I looked up to see that the sky was darkening. It had been around 2 when we'd stopped. I had no idea how long it took to fix the Impala, but I would bet they had already tried to call me by now.

I looked around. I had no idea where I was.


	11. Chapter 11 - Missed

**I swear, I do proofread these things before I post them, but sometimes I still miss things and have to clean them up later. Please forgive the mistakes...Thanks for all the great reviews and for reading. Don't worry, this one's not done yet...**

**Edit: I messed up the treatment for hypothermia. I think I have it right now. We know the guys would know the right way to treat it and I wouldn't want to misrepresent them... :)**

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I tried retracing my steps by heading downstream. The only problem was that I didn't know how long I had been walking next to the stream, and all of the god damned trees looked the same. I didn't know which direction I had been walking in when I found the stream. I'd just kind of found it. I was such an idiot. Dean was going to kill me. Sam would probably make me right some kind of an essay if he didn't decide he was pissed enough to spank me, too. And they'd both be worried about me, which made me feel that much guiltier about the whole thing.

If I'd just told Dean about the phone after I'd busted it, he'd've given me his, or Sam's, before I'd wandered off in the woods, but I hadn't wanted to tell him and then I hadn't wanted to be in trouble, so I'd put it out of my mind. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

I sat down on a rock and started crying. My parents used to take me hiking, but they hadn't taught me how to find my way back out. We'd usually just hiked on known trails and they'd carried compasses and we'd never gotten lost. Of course, they probably had never expected me to wander off without them. When I'd been in the Smokies, I'd initially found everything by road and then I'd stayed and learned the area. I'd paid more attention rather than just wandering off imagining fairies and elves. I'd basically done everything wrong all because I'd been so happy to finally be not trapped in a hotel or car.

My mom used to tell me that you couldn't solve things by crying about them. I remembered vaguely that she'd also mentioned that if you got lost, you could follow running water downstream and it would likely lead to some sort of civilization. Lacking any better ideas, I started following the stream. As I walked, I realized that I was hungry and thirsty. The pressure was building in my head, too. I was going to have to let it out soon, which sucked because along with telling me not to go far, Dean had told me not to set anything on fire. If I started itching, though, I was going to have to let it out or take the chance of losing control.

The sun was behind me as I followed the stream, which was growing wider. The rocks in the middle were larger, it was a little deeper, and it was moving a lot faster. The fact that it was getting darker was making it harder for me to find my way around the rocks. I tried moving up to the bank and just ended up tripping on branches and roots. I went to move back down to the bank and I caught my foot in the fork of a fallen tree, wrenching my ankle.

"Mother fucker," I hissed and sat down hard on the ground. I disentangled my foot from fork and sat there for a couple of minutes. When I tried to stand back up, my ankle was throbbing, but it would hold my weight, mostly. I limped down to the river bank and kept moving, but more slowly now. The bank was wet and slippery, and now with a sore ankle, I was having more difficulty navigating it.

I noticed that the water sounded louder now and I glanced over to see that the water was rushing by me at a much quicker pace. White flashed and roiled in the moonlight where the water ran over and around huge rocks in the river. My ankle ached. I sat down on a rock next to the water and tried to scratch my arms through my jacket.

"Fuck," I said, realizing what that meant. I was going to have to light something up, but then again, now that I thought of it, that might be a good way to show Sam and Dean where I was, or at least maybe leave a hint of where I'd gone. I was going to try to do it the smart way, though, and that meant finding branches or trees that were trapped in the water already. That way, if I lost control, the only thing that would happen was that water would boil off along with the branches burning.

I stood up and started limping along the river bank, looking for a snag. The water was getting rougher as I moved along. Finally, out in the middle of the river, I saw a log that had fallen and was trapped against some rocks. I set my legs shoulder-width apart, aimed at the log and pushed my flame into it. The tree lit up, burning both above and below the water. I'd never done that before, and it was gorgeous. Without thinking, I took a step forward to get a better look. My foot came down on a loose rock, and my bad ankle couldn't support me. I fell forward and let go of the flame.

I was underwater, the burning tree right in front of me, and then behind me. I couldn't breathe. I struggled to get my head above water. When I finally did, I was in the middle of the river. The itching was gone, but now I was freezing cold. I started swimming to the bank, but I banged into a rock, and then another. The third time I banged into a rock, I hit my ankle and screamed as it twisted further. I grabbed the rock and held on for dear life as the water buffeted me and beat against me. I was so cold.

I clung to the rock, having no idea how the hell I was going to get out of the river. Taking a deep breath, I pushed myself away from the rock and towards the river bank, swimming as best I could in the rough waters. The water pummeled me into another rock. I grabbed it.

"Hey!" I heard a voice say. I looked at the bank to see a woman wearing red and black buffalo plaid and a black knit cap holding out a walking stick towards me. "Grab this! Hurry!" I took another deep breath and flung myself towards the stick, grabbing it.

She pulled me to the bank. I crawled out of the water on my hands and knees and collapsed on the ground at her feet. "Thank you," I said, staring at her hiking boots.

"You're welcome," she said, her boots retreating. I listened to her sing as she walked away, the tune and song unknown to me. I rolled over and stared up through the trees at the stars. They were so pretty.

I have no idea how long I lay there shivering. It couldn't have been too long, but the stars seemed to whirl after a while, clouds floating across them, blocking them from view and then exposing them in their crisp brightness against the black sky.

"Dean, there she is," Sam said, but it couldn't be Sam. Sam was far away with the Impala. They had no idea where I was.

"Jessie! Jessie!" Dean said. And then they were both there. Their faces were blurry in my vision. Dean crouched next to me and helped me sit up. "She's soaked and blue. I think she's hypothermic. We need to get a fire started."

"I got it," Sam said, moving out of my sight. The stars were back. Sam and Dean were just like clouds.

"I can start fires," I said softly. "Such pretty fires. Even underwater."

"Shh, baby, shh," Dean said. He stripped off his jacket, his shirt, and his t-shirt, leaving him bare-chested in the cold. He started pulling off my soaked clothing.

I opened the furnace inside of me, aimed at the treetops, and said softly, "Watch me start a fire." I pushed.

"No!" Dean said, but nothing happened.

"It didn't work," I said, sadly, softly befuddled. "The river cured me."

"No, hypothermia cured you. Come on, sweetheart," he scooped me up and pulled me close to his chest, wrapping my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck. He held me, trying to warm me with his body. "How's that fire coming, Sam?"

"Almost got it," I heard Sam say from far away. I heard the distinct crackling of flame. Dean carried me over to the fire, sitting down with the fire in front of him.

"I hurt my ankle," I said in a sotted voice. "I twisted it and hit it on a rock."

"Ok, I've got you now. We just have to get you warm. Sam, go get my shirts so we can get her in something warm and dry."

"I'm sorry, Dean," I said. "I'm sorry I got lost." I turned towards him and wrapped my arms around his neck, putting my back to the fire.

"Well talk about it later," he said soothingly. "You're going to be ok."

"I'm so tired, Dean," I said.

"I've got you now," he said. "You can sleep. I'll keep you warm."

"Ok," I said. I rested my head against his shoulder, staring into the woods. I was already warmer. As a last thought before I closed my eyes, I locked the furnace.

I woke up when they started dressing me. They put Dean's shirt on me and then wrapped his jacket around my legs. Sam put his socks on my feet and his jacket over Dean's shirt. Once I was dressed, Sam put out the fire and they started hiking through the woods. I faded back out. I woke up again when we'd reached the car. Sam was holding open the door of the Impala for Dean to put me in. Realizing I was safe, I fell back to sleep.

When I woke up for real, I was lying on the back seat of the Impala with three blankets over the top of me. The guys were talking quietly in the front seat. Stars still twinkled overhead, but the sky was brightening in the east.

"Hi," I said, sitting up.

"Hey, sweetheart," Dean said. "How are you feeling?"

I pulled the blankets around me. My head hurt, and I felt stiff and drained but warm. "Better. Warm." I looked down at my blanket wrapped legs. "Thanks for finding me."

"You didn't make it easy," Sam said.

Dean held a hand up. "Let's make sure she's ok, first."

"I'm hungry," I said hopefully.

"All right, we'll stop and get you something to eat," Dean said. "How's your ankle?"

I tried to twist it and winced. "It hurts pretty bad, all the way up the side."

Dean said, "We're stopping soon and when we do, I'll take a look."

"Ok," I said. I started working on unwrapping myself from all of the blankets. Once I got them all off, I tucked two of the three back around me to keep the warmth in. I tucked my hands under the blankets and just sat there.

About fifteen minutes later, they pulled into a motel and got a room. I scooted out from under the blankets and went to open the back door of the car. Dean pulled the door open and out of my hand. "I don't want you walking until we get a good look at your ankle," he said, and scooped me up to carry me into the room.

He set me on one of the beds and went into the bathroom. He filled the tub and then carried me into the bathroom. "Can you get into the tub without help?" he asked.

"Yes, Dean," I said.

"Get cleaned up," he said. He left the room and came back with one of my nightshirts and underwear. "When you're done, call for me and I'll come get you."

"Ok," I said. He shut the bathroom door, leaving me be. I slowly took off my clothes and got into the hot water in the bathtub. I wasn't really all that dirty, having spent a good chunk of time immersed in water, but the hot water helped ease out the rest of the aches and pains. My ankle was badly swollen and bruised. I had bruises all over my body, my arms, my legs, and even one on my ribs. I had no idea when that had happened. None were as sore as my ankle though.

I finished getting warm and washing up, dried off, and put on my nightshirt. I sat on the toilet to put my underwear on. Then I called Dean to come get me. Dean carried me to a chair that was next to a table in the room.

They'd been busy while I'd been in the bathtub. Sam had picked up some fast food, and Dean had gotten a roll-away bed for me to sleep on. Sam handed me one of those English muffin things.

"Let me see your ankle," Dean instructed. I held my ankle out and he moved it around. I whimpered several times and shrieked once or twice. He took out some bandaging and wrapped my ankle tightly. "I think it's just a sprain," he said, sitting down in the other chair. "When you're done eating, I'm going to give you some Tylenol 3 and then you're going to bed."

"Ok," I said softly, taking another bite of the muffin. Sam disappeared into the bathroom to get cleaned up. I looked at Dean. "Am I in a lot of trouble?"

"I don't know," he said. "But we're not going to talk about that right now. Right now, we're going to get you put to bed." He sat there for another minute. "You think you could light a fire now?"

I considered, touching the furnace deep inside me. "Yeah," I said. "I kinda remember not being able to do it in the woods after the stars were so bright. Is that right?"

"You said you tried to and it didn't work. We think that you were too cold and your body couldn't generate enough energy to make the fire."

I thought about that while I finished chewing the last bite of the muffin. "So if I get too cold, I can't make a fire?"

"Probably because your body is trying to keep you alive at that point. That's more important. Honestly, I think the only reason you survived at all is because you seem to run hotter than other people. Your abilities basically saved your life today."

I thought about the woman in the red and black plaid. Had she been a dream? If she'd been real, why did she leave me on the riverbank, and what was with the tune she'd been singing before her voice faded away? I thought about the dream from the other night, about the woman in red that disappeared in a column of flame. No, the woman hiker had to have just been a dream caused by the hypothermia. It didn't make sense otherwise. No one would have left a half-frozen girl on a riverbank after pulling her out of the river.

"Time for bed," Dean said. He picked me up and carried me to the roll-away. Once there, he gave me half a pill of Tylenol 3 and a glass of water to take it with. I crawled under the covers and he tucked me in. "You holler if you need anything, ok? We'll get you some crutches tomorrow."

"Ok," I said. I was already getting sleepy. "Thanks." He kissed me on the forehead and went to sit back down at the table, messing with his phone. I watched through half-lidded eyes as Sam came out of the bathroom.

"How's our wanderer?" Sam asked softly.

"Sore, achy, and thoughtful," Dean said. "Worried about how much trouble she's in. We need to get her some crutches tomorrow or we're going to be carrying her for the next three weeks. She said she can start fires again."

"Well, that's always exciting," Sam said, sliding into his bed. "Maybe she can hold off until we get some sleep."

Dean grunted in agreement and went into the bathroom to get cleaned up. I tried to stay awake until he came back out, but I just didn't make it.


	12. Chapter 12 - Miss Treatment

**I messed up the treatment for hypothermia in the last chapter, but it should be fixed now. Thanks again for reading. **

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I woke up several hours later. Dean was watching television and Sam was on his laptop. My head was pounding worse than it had when I'd gone to sleep and my ankle throbbed. All the bruises that I'd seen in the tub seemed to be screaming in pain. I groaned and Dean was by my side. "What's wrong?"

"Everything hurts," I whined. "My head, my ankle, my body."

"I'll get you another pain reliever," he said. I sat up in bed and watched him get me a glass of water while Sam got some pills from his duffel. I took the pills with the water and closed my eyes again and waited for the pain to fade. Eventually, the headache and body aches eased back, but my ankle was a constant pain that I was pretty sure wasn't going to fade for a while.

I pulled back the covers and started to get out of bed, but Sam stopped me and handed me a pair of crutches. He showed me how to use them, and I clumsily made my way to the bathroom. When I got out, Dean had me sit at the table to eat a sandwich and some soup that they had picked up for me while I'd been sleeping.

When I finished eating, Dean turned off the television like that was what he'd been waiting for. "Want to tell me what happened yesterday?"

I really didn't. I knew that I was going to be in trouble, even if they weren't sure yet, and copping to my offenses was not high on my list. When I didn't answer, Dean set my phone down on the table in front of me. "Why don't you start with this?"

"It's broken," I whispered, not meeting his eyes. Sam shut his laptop. My stomach lurched as I realized that I had the disapproving attention of both of them.

"I can see it's broken," Dean said, his voice hard. He picked it up and flipped it open, showing me the cracked screen. "I want to know how long it's been broken and if it was broken when you walked into the woods yesterday."

Was it only yesterday? It seemed like a week ago, now. I ran my fingers through my hair and stared at the table, trying to delay the inevitable.

"You'd better start talking, little girl," Dean said, "or I'll put you over my knee right now."

"Before," I whispered.

Dean narrowed his eyes, "Excuse me?"

"Before," I said, louder this time. "It was broken before I went into the woods."

Neither of them said anything for a minute, and then Dean got up and walked away. Sam said, "Why don't you start from the beginning?"

"When is that?" I asked quietly.

"When you broke your damned phone," Dean snapped, turning away from the window.

I jumped, and then my temper flared and I couldn't help myself. I blurted, "I don't know why you're so upset. I'm the one who almost died! Why can't you cut me a little slack?" I glared at Dean.

He grabbed my chair and whirled it away from the table. He put a hand on either side of my head on the back of the chair and leaned over me. In a quietly controlled voice, he said, "You don't know why I'm so upset? Maybe it's because my little girl wandered into the woods yesterday and disappeared for hours, fell into a river, almost drowned, and then almost died of hypothermia. Maybe it's because she could have avoided all of that if she had listened and not gone so far into the woods that she couldn't find her way back, or better yet, if she hadn't taken a broken phone into the woods with her so I could reach her. You think that might be why I'm so upset?"

I turned bright red and tried to look away from him, but he wouldn't let me. "You could have died," he said, holding my chin and meeting my eyes. "And if you'd followed the rules, the entirety of yesterday could have been avoided."

Guilt overwhelmed me. "I'm sorry," I whispered. "I didn't mean to worry you." Dean pushed away from the chair and stalked back over to the window.

"What the hell were you thinking, Jessie?" Sam asked.

I looked at my lap. "That you'd be mad that I broke my phone."

"Well, that's just a _genius_ move," Dean snapped.

"Tell us what happened," Sam said.

I sighed. I told them about breaking the phone, deciding not to tell them what happened, and then what had happened once I was in the woods. I didn't tell them about the woman hiker, figuring she was just a figment of my imagination. My memory of her wasn't all that clear anyway. Dean was pacing by the time I was done. Sam looked grim.

Dean stood in front of my chair and raised his eyebrows. "What did I tell you would happen the next time I couldn't reach you on your phone?"

I went white. "You can't! I sprained my ankle!"

"I'm not going to be spanking your ankle," he said. "What did I say?"

My heart was in my throat. "You said that you'd use the hairbrush," I said. "But I'm sorry, Dean. I didn't mean to scare you guys. I didn't mean to get lost!"

Sam said, "You wouldn't be in trouble at all if you'd just told us when you'd broken it. But instead, you hid it from us so you wouldn't get in trouble. You went into the woods knowing you had a broken phone but let us think that we'd be able to reach you. That's why you're in trouble, young lady."

Dean went over to my backpack and started digging through it. After a minute, he dumped the contents on the bed. Then he turned to me. "Where's your hairbrush?"

Oh, fuck. "Uh…" I said. My heart plummeted. They were both looking at me. I was so completely and utterly screwed. I considered lying, but only for a minute. I was already in enough trouble.

Dean tilted his head down and raised his eyebrows again. "Where is it, Jessie?"

"In the crib back in that old house in Massachusetts," I whispered.

"What?!" Dean exploded.

"I decided I didn't want it any more. It was mine! I figured I would use a comb from now on," I said in a rush, defensively. "You never told me I couldn't throw it away!"

Sam made a choking noise, but Dean just looked mad. He descended upon me, scooped me up, chair and all, and put me in the corner. Then he grabbed his jacket and left.

"I am so fucked," I muttered.

"Not another word," Sam said. "Sit there and think about why you are so fucked."

After a while, I asked, "Where'd Dean go?"

"I don't know, but I can start without him," Sam threatened. "Be quiet."

I stared at the corner and waited and waited and waited. I felt bad, guilty for getting lost, guilty that they had been worried, guilty that they had had to tromp through hours of woods to find me, guilty that I'd hurt my ankle. More than anything, that was what I was sorry for. They were right; if I'd listened, if I'd told them… I was such an idiot.

I should've told them about the phone. I shouldn't have wandered so far. I should've paid more attention. I sighed. I probably shouldn't have ditched the hairbrush. I heard the Impala pull up and Dean's door close, and my stomach started hurting again.

Dean came into the room and turned me around so I was facing him. He was holding a new hairbrush, this one larger than the previous one and the wood looked thicker. I swallowed. "You will not throw this one away," he said. "You ditch this one or you lose it, I'll take off my belt. You got me, little girl?"

"Yes, Dean," I whispered, scared and just a tiny bit relieved.

"Tell me why you're in trouble," he said.

"I didn't tell you I broke my phone and then I went off into the woods without any way for you to reach me."

"Why else?" he asked.

"I ditched the hairbrush?" I asked.

"And?"

"I don't know," I said, confused.

"Your inability to obey the rules got you hurt, little girl," Dean said. "You need to obey the rules we've given you. They are there for a reason." He lifted me out of the chair, sat down on the bed, and put me over his lap, gently setting my hurt ankle down.

"Dean, please?" I asked, scared. "I'm sorry. I won't do it again."

He didn't say anything, just brought his hand down on my panty-covered butt over and over until I was crying. I kicked my non-sore foot against the mattress as he spanked, trying to get off of his lap, but he held me there. When I brought up my sore ankle and brought it down, he caught my shin.

"If you hurt your bad ankle trying to get away from me, I swear to god, I will take off my belt right now."

Panic shot through me and I stilled. He set my leg down gently and resumed spanking me. I pulled the bedspread up into a bundle and sobbed into it, fighting to catch my breath when he finally stopped, but it was only to grasp the sides of my panties and pull them down to my thighs.

"What…?" I said, startled at the change. "No, Dean, please! Not on the bare."

"You bet on the bare, little girl." Then he brought down the hairbrush on my bare bottom and I shrieked and kicked again, but only with my non-sprained foot. I pushed against the mattress with my arms and tried to twist off of his lap, but he wrapped his arm around my waist and kept spanking. I gave up and cried and cried.

Finally, he stopped. "You will learn to obey the rules. I don't care how many times I have to do this. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Dean," I said into the wadded up bedspread, still sobbing. He pulled my panties back up over my bottom and gently flipped me over to hold me, gently rubbing my back.

"You're on restriction," he said. "No TV, no playing games on Sam's computer, no Game Boy. You're lucky I'm not taking your books away from you."

"No," Sam said shortly from the other side of the room. "I am. No books except for schoolbooks, and I think that your Language Arts book is off limits for at least a week."

"Looks like you pissed off both of us," Dean said. He held me a little while longer until I stopped crying. Then he carried me to the roll-away bed and set me on it. My bottom stung when it touched the rough motel sheets, and I hissed and lifted my hips to the side. Dean went and turned the television on with the volume down low, and I turned away from it so I couldn't see it. That was the deal when we were in motel rooms.

Sam came over and dropped my butterfly backpack on the bed. He crouched down in front of me. "You scared the crap out of both of us. We don't like it when we can't find you. I'm extremely disappointed that you couldn't follow the simplest instruction of don't go too far or keep your phone on you. It seems like an eleven-year-old who used to live in the woods would know better."

I flushed. "I'm sorry, Sam."

"You're writing me lines," Sam said. "Five hundred times: 'I will keep my phone on me'."

"Yes, Sam," I said softly. At least I could zone out and tell myself stories while I did that.

"Do you know what you should do when you get lost in the woods?"

"I guess not," I whispered.

"You call us, but if something has happened to your phone, you stop and wait for us to find you. We can track, remember? We'd have found you in less than a half an hour if you'd just held still."

"Oh," I said, feeling stupid. Of course they could, that's how they found me to start with.

Sam kissed my forehead and hugged me to him. "I'm glad we found you in time," he said. He headed over to sit next to Dean and watch some sports game. It was slightly annoying because I couldn't even listen to something interesting, but that was kind of the point Dean was making.

"Sam, how long until I can start learning something about hunting?" I asked, suddenly remembering what they'd told me not two days earlier.

"At least a week," he said. "At this rate, you're not going to learn anything."

I sighed and pulled out my notebook to start my lines.


	13. Chapter 13 It's Beginning to Look A Lot

I'd been fretting about Christmas for a whole month, ever since I started seeing Christmas-related commercials during Dean's Western marathons and the guys' football games. They hadn't talked about it at all, and I didn't know what their plans were or if they had any. All I knew is that I wanted to give them something. They'd done so much for me, rescuing me from the woods, teaching me how to control my fire, taking care of me and keeping me safe, trying to keep me on track with my schoolwork. I wasn't even their real kid, but they treated me like family. They cared about me and fussed at me and made sure I was safe and warm.

I loved them, and I wanted to show them that. The problem was that I didn't have any money. I had no way to buy them anything. Even if I did, what the hell could I give them? They had all the weapons they needed; not that I could get my hands on other weapons even if I could think of any that they might need, and not that I knew enough about weapons and hunting to even figure that out. We didn't have a whole lot of space, being on the road all the time, so anything that I could give them had to be either useful or very, very small.

It was four days before Christmas. I still hadn't come up with any ideas, and I was running out of time. The last time we'd stopped at a grocery store, I'd asked them to get me some construction paper, crayons, and markers along with the food and beer they had bought. Since then, whenever I could get some time to myself or when they weren't paying a whole lot of attention to what I was doing, I worked on Christmas cards for them. I'd made and destroyed about six cards for each of them. The cards had to be perfect.

"Jessie, pay attention," Dean said. I focused back on the revolver he was showing me. Since I'd gotten off my last restriction, they'd started teaching me some basic hunting and fighting skills. They were trading off on subjects, one a week. Last week, Sam had walked me through protecting against demons, which was apparently a constant concern for them and the first thing he wanted me to know. This week, Dean was teaching me gun safety, since we had guns all over the place.

"Treat all guns as if they are loaded, all the time," Dean said. "Never point a gun at anything that you don't intend to kill or destroy."

"Ok," I said. He continued by showing me all the different parts of a gun, including where the safety is and how to hold it. He went through a list of safety rules with me, too. Then I watched him clean it.

"I'm never going to remember all of this," I said, a bit overwhelmed with the amount of information he'd just given me. I'd been taking notes, but I knew there was no way that I'd be able to remember everything all at once.

"That's ok. We'll keep going over it until you have it, but don't touch one of these without my say so until I say you're ready," he said, wiping down the barrel with an oiled cloth.

"Yes, Dean," I said. I glanced at my notebook. "When do I get to shoot one?"

"When you know all the safety rules and can clean, load, and unload the gun all by yourself. Once you know how to take care of the revolver, we'll start working on pistols, and then I'll teach you shotguns."

I nodded, happy with the plan, "Cool."

"Dean, I found something," Sam interrupted. "Some people are going missing in Ypsilanti, Michigan."

"All right, as soon as I'm finished here, we'll pack up and get moving."

It was only four hours to Ypsilanti. We checked into a motel for the night. The next day Sam and Dean went to question the victim's family, leaving me behind in the motel.

I was going to have to make them something, maybe something they could wear. Sam had left his computer behind, so I turned it on, opened a browser, and started searching. An hour later, I'd figured out that I could probably make them both bracelets. It seemed pretty simple. All I really needed was some cotton cord and some beads. I was going to need to go to a fabric store or a craft store or something to get the materials.

I closed the browser and the computer. Maybe I could get Dean to take me to a store later, but I wasn't sure how I was going to distract him long enough to get the stuff I needed. I gathered up my construction paper, art materials, and scissors and sat down on the floor behind the bed that was the farthest away from the door to work on their cards again. I didn't want them to see what I was doing, and I wasn't sure how much time I would have between hearing the Impala pull up and them coming in the door. At least on this side of the room, I'd have a little more time.

I was so involved in the cards that I didn't hear the Impala. I jumped when the door opened, and quickly shoved the stuff under the bed. They were involved in a conversation about the thing they were hunting, so they didn't notice my quick and furtive movements. Once the stuff was under the bed, I stood up and hugged them both.

"I'm getting out of this monkey suit," Dean said, tugging on his lapel. "Then I'm going to get some beer."

"Can I come?" I asked, seizing the opportunity to get some stuff I needed.

"Sure, sweetheart, just give me a few minutes."

Fifteen minutes later, I hugged Sam goodbye, leaving him to work on researching the monster and got into the Impala with Dean.

"Dean, can we go to Wal-Mart?" I asked.

"Wal-Mart?" Dean asked. "I can get beer at the gas station."

"Um," I said hesitantly, searching for a reason I might need to go somewhere else. "I need, um, you know, girl things."

"Girl things? What are you…? Oh." He smiled at me. "You know, you don't have to be embarrassed about that. It's perfectly normal."

I flushed, now actually embarrassed. "Yeah, well. So can we go to Wal-Mart?"

"Sure," he said. He pulled out, turning on the radio. The Wal-Mart was only about ten minutes from the motel. He pulled in and turned off the car. We went into the store, and I turned to him, face still red, mostly because I was lying and feeling guilty about it, even though it was just so he wouldn't know about the surprise.

"Dean, uh…" I said, fidgeting.

"You want to go shop for them by yourself?" he asked, setting his hand on my shoulder. I nodded. He handed me a twenty. "I'll meet you in the car. Take your time."

I sighed, relieved. "Thanks, Dean."

"Whatever you need, sweetheart," he said, smiling at me. I hugged him and headed off towards the health products, taking a sharp left when I was out of his sight to go back to the section that had craft supplies in it. He was so good to me. Maybe the bracelet wasn't enough. I fretted, but I really had no choice. I had twenty dollars to my name. Nothing of any real value could be obtained for that price.

I poked around the craft supplies, picking out black, green, and blue cotton cord. I picked out some beads, too. I wasn't sure which one I wanted to use, so I picked out several that might be good. Then I headed back to the health products section and picked up some of the feminine products that I'd claimed to need. I would need them eventually, but I really didn't right now.

On my way to the checkout, I saw the jewelry counter. I wandered over to it and looked through the glass cases at the rings, bracelets, necklaces, and watches inside. This is the kind of thing that they both deserved, something with real value, not some crappy thing that I pieced together. There was no one at the jewelry counter. Maybe I could just take something… I could set a fire somewhere in the store and then break into the counter and get something they really deserved.

I shook my head. What the hell was I thinking? I stared down at the cords and beads in my hands and decided that crappy would just have to do. It would never be enough. I'd never be able to repay them, but at least I wouldn't taint the gift. I headed towards the checkout counter.

I paid for the stuff. It took the whole twenty dollars. I only had eight cents left. I hoped Dean wouldn't ask me for the change. I asked for a separate plastic bag and separately wrapped the cords and beads, sticking them under the pads in the bag. Then I headed out to the car.

Dean was waiting in the car for me, his music cranked up. I opened the passenger door and got in, fastening the seatbelt around me. "You get what you need?" he asked me.

"Yeah," I said, holding up the plastic bag.

"Change?" he asked.

"Can I keep it?" I asked, hoping.

"Sure," he said. "Now let's go to the liquor store where they have real beer."

I giggled and leaned back in my seat. Dean spent a long time in the liquor store and when he came out, he said, "I've got to go follow a couple of leads. You up for riding along?"

I nodded and rode with him while he drove into one of the local neighborhoods. I waited in the car while he knocked on doors and asked questions. I pulled the cords out of the bag and considered. I decided that I'd make a bracelet with black mixed with blue for Dean and black mixed with green for Sam. I looked at the beads.

I'd picked out several. I had small box of eight beads in white and brown, a shotgun bead, a computer bead, a book bead, a car bead, and finally, one bead with uncle on it and one bead with dad on it.

The dad bead hurt me a little. My dad had been awesome. He'd been caring and kind and loving. He'd taught me things and done things with me. He was the reason I knew how to ride a bike and take a fish off a hook and knew some of the constellations. He was the reason I liked to hike and thought hockey was awesome. He'd loved me so much and taught me so much. The fact that I'd burned him alive in his bed ate at me. I felt so guilty about that. Dean had said that it wasn't my fault and it probably wasn't, but he'd still be alive if it weren't for me.

If I used the dad bead on the bracelet I was making for Dean, even if he was taking on the role of dad now, did that mean I was betraying my dad? Did that mean I was saying that my dad meant nothing to me? Was I replacing my dad? Was I replacing my family with Dean and Sam, like they'd never mattered in the first place?

My heart pounded and I realized that I was crying, staring at the beads. I shoved them back into the plastic bag with the cords and shoved that plastic bag back into the other plastic bag. I dug into the glove box and pulled out some napkins, wiping my eyes and nose.

Dean opened the door to the car. I looked up, startled, tears still dripping from my eyes. "Well that went well… hey, what's wrong?" Dean got into the car and slid over close to me. "Why are you crying?"

"I miss my mom and dad," I said, unable to bear any further explanation.

"Oh, sweetheart," he said. He pulled me close to him and hugged me to him. "I'm so sorry. I wish they were here for you."

"Dean," I said, sniffling and resting my head on his shoulder, "if someone dies and you start loving someone else just as much, are you betraying the person who died?"

"Do you still love the person who died?" Dean asked.

"Yes," I said. "So much."

"Let me ask you something else. Do you love your mom even though you love your dad?"

I nodded.

"Love doesn't have a limit. Family doesn't have a limit," Dean said. "I love Sam. I love my dad. I love you. I love Bobby. Just because you love one person doesn't mean that you're all full up. It doesn't mean that you don't love anyone else. It doesn't mean you're betraying the other people that you love. It just means that you love that person, too. Does that make sense?"

"I think so," I said. He kissed my forehead.

"It's true," he said. "You don't love your mom any less because you love your dad. You don't love your dad any less because you love your brother."

"Ok," I said, considering his words.

"Let's get back to the motel. I've got some stuff to tell Sammy. Scoot back over and put your seatbelt on."

"Yes, Dean," I said. I looked out the window and thought about what he said.

When we got back to the motel, Sam suggested that the killer might be something called an anti-Claus. Dean said it was crazy but said that the victims both visited the same place before they were killed, a Christmas village.

We grabbed our jackets and headed out.


	14. Chapter 14 - Here Comes Santa Claus

"This place is a dump," I said as we walked into Santa's Village. The paint was chipping on most of the buildings and signs and the employees looked unhappy and bored. "Holiday cheer much?"

"Yeah, you'd think they could have coughed up some cash for some paint," Sam said.

"I think they're giving out candy over there," I said, noticing some raggedy elves next to a bowl of candy. "Can I go get some?"

"Knock yourself out," Dean said. I left them to their own devices and wandered over to the elves.

"Can I have a candy cane?" I asked.

"Sure, kid," the elf said. "Fifty cents."

"For a candy cane?" I asked, appalled. "I can buy one cheaper at a gas station."

"Then what are you doing here?" the elf asked. "You want one or not?"

"No," I said. I looked around. "Isn't there anything free here?"

"Playground on the other side of Santa's house," the elf said, pointing. "Now get out of here. You're holding up the line."

I wandered over to the playground to find a crappy metal slide, a merry-go-round, wooden swings on chains, and three see-saws. I shook my head. Half of the equipment wasn't allowed on playgrounds any longer for safety reasons. Cheap and unsafe, what a great combination.

There were several kids playing on the playground, but the swing at the end was free. I climbed onto it and started swinging.

"Hey, that was my swing," said a boy's voice behind me.

"You weren't on it," I said, not turning around. I kicked my legs up and aimed for the clouds above me.

"I was in the bathroom. Everyone knew it was my swing; that's why no one was on it," the kid said. He came around to stand next to me, just on the other side of the swing set poles. He looked a little older than me, bulkier, with thick curly brown hair.

"I don't care," I said. "Go away." I tried to ignore him as I soared past him.

"Bitch," the kid said. He hurled himself at the swing, grabbing the chain as I soared past and set us into a wild spinning swing that only barely missed the kid on the swing to my left. She shrieked as she came back towards me. I kicked at the boy and fell out of the swing, landing hard on my butt on the mulch beneath the swing set. The boy started to climb into the swing.

"Oh, no you don't, you little fucker," I said. Pressure flared at the back of my skull and in my temples. I fought it. I grabbed his leg and yanked on him, pulling him down to the mulch. The girl on the swing next to me jumped out of the swing when she got close enough to the ground, trying to get away from us. I aimed a punch at the boy's head, but he dodged and kicked at me.

Everything was a blur as we struggled against each other. He elbowed me in the face and I smooshed his nose with my palm. He kicked me in the leg; I punched his stomach. I held onto him when he tried to get up and run, pulling him back down to the ground. He pushed me, and I banged my head against the wood of the swing.

Dazed, I let go of him, and he jumped on me. I rolled over and struggled to get away, but couldn't get out from under him. He grabbed me around the neck. I couldn't breathe. The pressure in my head released. Someone screamed. I tossed my head backwards and was rewarded with a shout as he let go of my neck. I rolled back over and climbed on top of him. His nose was spouting blood from the contact with my skull. I cocked my fist back.

Someone pulled me off of him before I had a chance to punch him. I struggled against whoever it was, but couldn't get free. "Jessie, hold still," Sam said. I stopped struggling, whirled around, and buried myself against him, holding onto him for dear life and sobbing.

"Breathe, honey," he said. "You're glowing. Get a lock on your fire. Pull the fire you started back in."

I struggled to lock up my fire, breathing into his shirt while I clutched at him. I looked around and saw a flame at the edge of the playground. People were kicking dirt onto it, but it continued to burn. I connected to it and pulled it into me.

"You need to get control of your daughter," a woman demanded. I craned my neck to see her grab her son from Dean and shove him behind her.

"You need to get control of your son," Dean said angrily. "She didn't start this."

"My son has a bloody nose and a black eye," the woman shrieked. "Someone is going to pay for this."

"Looks like my daughter already has," Dean said.

Sam unwound my arms from his waist and crouched down in front of me. "What happened, honey?"

"The swing was empty and I got on it and he said that it was his and he pushed me off it," I said.

"And then you grabbed me off of it and started punching me!" the kid yelled, pushing past his mother and coming towards me with fists clenched.

I spun around, my anger flaring. "You little asshole! You started the whole thing. You don't own the fucking playground!"

His mother was shocked. She grabbed the boy to her and covered his ears. "That hellion needs to learn to watch her language."

"Lady, I'm sure he's heard worse," Dean said. "Come on, Jessie. Let's go home." He held his hand out to me. I took it and grabbed Sam's hand with my other hand, feeling shaken and scared by the whole experience.

The woman screamed after us as they led me out to the car, but didn't follow. Once at the car, Sam opened the back door and had me sit on the seat while he checked me over. Dean got the first aid kit out of the trunk and handed Sam antiseptic wipes as Sam cleaned off my face and looked for damage.

"You ok?" Dean asked.

"He jumped on me. I wasn't doing anything," I said.

"I know, sweetheart. Are you ok?"

I nodded and then looked up at him from under my bangs. "Am I in trouble?" I asked.

"Of course not," Dean said. "All you did was protect yourself."

Sam dabbed at a cut above my eye and said, "Next time, though, you might want to just let him have the swing and come get us. You could avoid getting hurt that way."

"Screw that," Dean said. "I say teach the bully a lesson. You really popped him a good one. Did you see his nose?"

Sam looked at him. "We shouldn't encourage her to get into fights, Dean."

"She didn't start it, Sammy," Dean said. "She only reacted to what he did."

"He started it. He jumped on me," I said. "I didn't do _anything_."

Sam sighed. "I know, honey. You didn't do anything wrong this time. I just want to make sure you understand that you shouldn't get into fights unnecessarily. You should avoid them unless you have to fight, to protect yourself or to protect someone else. Ok?" He gathered up the antiseptic wipes and handed Dean the anti-bacteria cream and Band-Aids to put back in the first aid kit.

"Yeah," I said. I looked down at my hands and picked at my nails, uncomfortable. It was like I'd almost done something wrong, but not quite.

"With your abilities, you have to be careful. You lost control of your fire. You could have unintentionally hurt someone. And once we start teaching you how to fight, you're going to have to be extra careful because you can really hurt someone once you know what you're doing. You can't just wade in because you're mad." Sam said. He tilted my chin up so I would meet his eyes.

"Ok," I said. I looked passed him at Dean, who rolled his eyes. "Don't fight unless I'm protecting myself or someone else, and be careful so I don't really hurt someone?"

"It'll make more sense once we start that part of your training. I promise," Sam said. "Let's get back to the motel now. We've got a stake-out to get ready for."

We stopped to eat on the way back. Once we were back in the room, I realized that if I didn't get the bracelets started soon, I wouldn't have enough time to finish them before Christmas. "Can I stay here?" I asked.

Dean looked at me suspiciously. "You want to stay here?" I nodded. "Are you up to something?"

"No," I said. "I'm tired and sore from the fight. I just want to stay here."

Dean regarded me, trying to read my face. Finally, he said, "All right. You can stay. Let's get your excess burned off before we go, though."

He took me outside and I burned up some charcoal, still trying unsuccessfully to hit smaller, more controlled areas. He took me back into the room. "We'll be back later. Be good. Go to bed at nine. Text me when you do, ok? Don't leave the room."

"Yes, Dean," I said. I listened until the Impala drove off and pulled out the cords, starting on Sam's bracelet first, still unsure if I was going to use the dad bead and wanting to delay the decision as long as possible.

I was tying the last knot in Sam's bracelet when my phone rang. I flipped the phone open without looking at it and stuck it between my ear and my shoulder. "Hello?" I asked.

"You in bed?" Dean asked.

I blinked and looked at the clock on the nightstand. 9:30. "Oh… Uh, no."

"What'd I tell you?" he asked.

"In bed by 9. Sorry."

"Get in bed. Call me when you're there, and it better not take more than fifteen minutes."

"Yes, Dean," I said. We both hung up, and I hurried to put away my stuff. I took the fastest shower in history, skipping my hair, and brushed my teeth. I pulled on my PJs, checked the salt lines around the door and window, made sure they were locked, and climbed in the bed with my phone next to me.

It was 9:44 when I called Dean. "I'm in bed now. How's the stake out going?"

"Slowly. Santa's holed up in his trailer and doesn't seem to be going anywhere. What kept you from going to bed?"

Even over the phone, I flushed guiltily at the lie I was about to tell. "I was reading and lost track of the time."

"Uh huh, ok. Get some sleep. We'll be back later. Call if you need us."

"Good night," I said.

"Good night, sweetheart. Sam says good night, too."

_My dad was pushing me on a swing. The sky got closer and then farther away. I turned to see the Impala drive up and park next to the swing set. Dean got out. "How's my little girl?" he asked, holding his arms out._

_"Dean!" I said. "Daddy, let me down!"_

_"She's my little girl," my dad said, turning away from the swing. He cocked his fist back and tried to punch Dean. Dean backed up, avoiding his fist. _

_"No, don't fight!" I shrieked. I got closer and farther away from them, the swing slowing in its arc. I jumped off and ran to them as my dad swung at Dean and Dean continued to duck and move, but never took a single action against my dad. "Please! Don't fight!"_

_"I won't, sweetheart," Dean said, ducking another swing by my dad. _

_My dad was crying as he continued to advance on Dean. "You're taking away my daughter!"_

_"I'm not," Dean objected. "I'm really not."_

_"Stop fighting!" I shrieked. I dug deep inside me and aimed fire between my dad and Dean, but it missed and my dad was suddenly on fire, burning before me. "Dad!" I screamed. "Dad, no!"_

I sat up, breathing hard. Pressure pounded at my temples and the back of my head. I burst into tears and buried my head in my pillow. "Jessie?" Dean asked, putting his hand on my back and sitting down on the bed. I threw my arms around his neck. "Ok, sweetheart. Ok. I've got you." He pulled me into his lap and rocked me there.

"I had a nightmare," I whispered.

"Yeah, sounds like it was a doozy," he said. He held me until I stopped crying and shifted me so I could see the room. Sam brought me a glass of water and sat next to Dean to look at me.

"What did you dream about?" Sam asked me.

"Dad and Dean fighting," I said, covering my face with my hands. "Only Dean wasn't really fighting. My dad was trying to hit him because Dean was taking me away from him. Dean was just trying not to get hit."

Sam said. "Normally, dreams are your mind's way of working through the things that are bothering you. Do you really think your dad would be upset that Dean is taking care of you now that he's gone?" I opened my mouth to answer, and Sam said, "No, don't answer right away. Think about it."

I leaned my head against Dean's shoulder and thought about it. My dad really loved me, and he always wanted what was best for me. He'd shown me how to ride a bike, and he'd talked my mom into letting me go to my first slumber party and night away from home. He'd helped me when I needed it and let me go when I needed it. If my dad didn't hate me for burning him to death, he'd be glad I was with someone who could take such good care of me. He'd be happy I found Dean and Sam, who were able to get me the help I needed to control my abilities and who wanted to keep me safe and out of harm's way.

"He'd be glad," I whispered, relief spreading through me. "He'd be happy I had you both."

Sam kissed my forehead. "Then you just need to let that sink in," he said.

Dean rubbed my back. "You think you can go back to sleep now, sweetheart?"

I nodded. Dean set me on my feet and stood up. Sam pulled back the covers and they both tucked me into my bed. "Dean?" I asked as he turned away. "What happened with the Santa?"

"Turned out to be a bust. Just an old guy who likes to make kids happy," he said.

"Good," I said. I rolled over and went to sleep.


	15. Chapter 15 - Do You Hear What I Hear?

"I don't see why I had to come along for this," I complained from the back seat of the Impala. Sam and Dean were once again dressed in suits, and we were headed to another house to question the family about another abduction.

"Who are you?" Dean asked. "You're certainly not Jessie, because she's always whining that she never gets to leave the room."

I sighed and glared out the window. I couldn't exactly explain to him that I needed more time to finish his bracelet and the cards. "I have schoolwork to do," I tried.

"Oh, now I know you're not Jessie," Sam said. "She never wants to do her schoolwork. She'll do everything to avoid it."

I rolled my eyes and didn't bother to reply.

"Come on," Dean said. "Relax. We've got nothing to worry about."

"Nothing but a killer that we haven't identified yet," Sam said.

"Yeah," Dean said, "nothing but that."

They pulled up to the curb next to a nice house and started to get out of the car. I rolled down my window so they could hear me. "Awesome," I said. "You brought me along just to leave me in the car."

Looking annoyed, Dean turned around and put his hand on my door. "What is your problem today?"

"I just wanted some time to myself," I said. "You dragged me out without even asking if I wanted to come."

He shook his head. "You had hours to yourself last night. I thought you'd have a nice time. Sit here, chill, and be in a better mood when we get back." He tapped the car door twice and they headed up the walk.

I climbed over the front seat to see if Dean had left the keys so I could listen to the radio, but he hadn't. I hadn't brought my Game Boy with me or my books. That was my own fault, but they'd had me up and out of the room with almost no warning, hurrying me along when I was getting ready. I dropped back into the back seat.

I considered. They'd probably be in the house for a while. Maybe I'd just go look around the house and see if there was anything outside that might give some idea of what we were dealing with. I got out of the car and headed up the walk. Once I was up by the house, I could see Dean through the front window talking to a woman. I ducked down below the level of the windows and headed around the side of the house.

I climbed the wooden fence and jumped into the back yard. Behind the house was a trellis that went all the way up to the roof. I vaguely remembered Dean mentioning that the bodies were pulled up the chimney. Maybe there was something on the roof that would be useful. I looked around to make sure I was alone and then started climbing the trellis.

I was about one story up when I heard a door shut. Then I heard, "Jessie Elizabeth Winchester! What in the hell do you think you're doing?" I jumped a little and looked down to see Sam standing at the bottom of the trellis, looking really pissed.

"Hi, Sam," I said sheepishly.

"Get your ass down here. Right now!" he said, pointing at the ground. I started slowly making my way down the trellis, but he seemed impatient, so when I was about eight feet off the ground, I turned around and jumped.

"Shit!" Sam swore, but I landed safely on both feet on the ground. He grabbed my arm and whirled me around, landing six hard swats on the seat of my jeans. I yipped.

"What the hell were you doing?" he asked again, whirling me around to face him.

"Helping?" I abashedly offered, rubbing my butt. "I thought there might be something on the roof."

He shook his head. "Get out to the car and stay there."

"Who's going to check the roof then?" I asked.

"Move," he said, pointing towards the street. I ran.

About fifteen minutes later, the two of them came back to the car talking about some wreath. Sam got in and immediately turned around in his seat to face me. "I want an explanation. Now."

Dean interrupted him. "Whoa, what happened?"

"I found Jessie in the back yard climbing the trellis to the roof."

"Excuse me?" Dean growled, turning around to glare at me.

I was sitting in the middle of the back seat. I stared down at my hands and picked at my nails. "I'm sorry," I said. "I've been thinking about it and I shouldn't have done that."

"Damn right, you shouldn't have done it," Sam said. "Look at me." I looked up from my nails to see both of them glaring at me angrily over the front seat. I shrank back into the seat a little. "You scared the crap out of me. First off, you shouldn't have been out there. Second, you shouldn't have been climbing a damned trellis. Third, you were told to stay in the car."

"I know," I said. Then I looked back down at my hands and whispered, "I just wanted to help."

"Your wanting to help has gotten you in a lot of trouble, young lady. Maybe it's time to rethink that," Sam said.

"That's it," Dean said. "No hunting lessons for two weeks."

"What?" I said, alarmed. "You just started teaching me!"

He turned around and started the car. "And I told you that if you stepped out of line at all, it would be taken away, didn't I?"

"It's not fair!" I said, leaning forward and putting my hand on the back of the seat.

"Didn't I?" Dean asked again, harsher this time.

"Yes, but…" I started.

"Then it's completely fair. Now put your seatbelt on."

I slid over to my normal spot behind Sam and put my seatbelt on. Sam turned back around and Dean drove to the motel.

When we got back into the room, Sam grabbed my arm and pulled me with him to the couch. "Hey, what…?" I stuttered. He sat down, undid my jeans, yanked them down, and pulled me over his lap. "But Dean took away the hunting lessons!" I wailed as my head tilted towards the floor.

Sam didn't even stop. He just started spanking. "Dean wasn't privy to you jumping off the trellis from eight feet up, now was he, young lady? Dean wasn't the one who got scared to death finding you on the trellis, and Dean wasn't the one you smart mouthed to before going back to the car. When you are told to stay in the car, you stay in the goddamned car. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Sam! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" I yelled. He stopped before I started crying, but my butt was sore. He put me on my feet and I yanked my jeans back up and buttoned them myself. I pouted at him.

"Don't pout at me," he said. "You earned that fair and square. You're lucky I'm not putting you in the corner."

"Yes, Sam," I said, looking away from him.

He pulled me close to him and hugged me. "You scared the hell out of me, Jessie."

"I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't mean to. I was bored."

"Think before you act," he said. "Specifically, think about how your actions are going to affect other people. Don't just go off and do something because you're bored. Got it?"

"Yes, Sam," I said again. He let me go and ruffled my hair. I made a face and went off to the bathroom to fix my pony tail.

When I came out of the bathroom, Sam was saying good-bye to Bobby. He and Dean discussed the fact that it was meadowsweet in the wreaths and that we were probably dealing with a Pagan god. The meadowsweet was inviting the god to kill the inhabitants of the house. Sam said the next step was to find out who was selling the wreaths.

Ashamed of my behavior earlier, I asked, "Can I come with you?"

"Do you promise to behave?" Dean asked. "I don't want a repeat of this last trip."

I went over to him where he was sitting at the table, and he put his arm around me. "I promise. I won't climb any more trellises without permission."

"All right, as soon as I finish my coffee, we'll go," Dean said.

The little Christmas shop that sold the wreaths was amazing. From the outside, it looked like a gingerbread house. Dean said that I could go in with them, so I grabbed his hand and trailed along a little behind him. When we got inside, Dean told the store owner that they had seen the wreath at the Walsh's house and that Sam hadn't shut up since. I smirked while Sam stuttered. While they asked the proprietor more questions, I let go of Dean's hand and wandered around the store. Christmas had exploded. There were all sorts of little stuffed snowmen and gingerbread men around the place, reindeer and Santa statues, and all sorts of fun Christmas things. I lingered over a little stuffed snowman with a top hat and rainbow buttons down the front, carrying a teeny tiny fir tree. I fiddled with it for a while.

"Jessie, let's go," Dean said. I reluctantly set the little snowman down and followed him out the door.

We ate dinner on the way back. Dean stopped at a park and put four bags of charcoal into a brazier for me to burn. I set it all on fire at once, pushing every bit of excess into it and reveling in the feeling of just being able to let go. I was tired when we got back to the room. It was late and Dean sent me off to shower and get ready for bed. He'd become more set on me having a regular sleep schedule after talking to Bobby recently.

I shut the bathroom door just as Dean started reminiscing about some wreath that his dad had brought back, made of beer cans. Always wanting to hear more about both of them and their life, I stopped and listened from behind the door. Sam wanted to know why Dean was so gung-ho about Christmas. Dean said that it was because it was his last one, and Sam said that was why he couldn't. I turned away from the door before I started crying and went to take my shower.


	16. Chapter 16 - O' Christmas Tree

The next day, we pulled up to a white house with Christmas decorations all over the front yard. Christmas music sung out across the yard. "Can I come this time?" I asked when Dean turned the car off.

"Yeah, otherwise you'll be climbing their trellis," Dean said. I got out of the car and followed Dean up the walk. Dean made a snarky comment about being able to feel the pagan vibe, but the weird thing was that I did feel something as we walked up to the door. I felt like I was being pushed away from the house. Confused, I grabbed Dean's hand and hid behind him a little as we approached.

With me clutching his left hand, Dean knocked at the door. When a cheery older woman opened it, I suddenly felt very hot and like I was being shoved backwards. I let go of Dean's hand and wrapped my arms around his waist from behind for all I was worth. After about a minute, instead of just feeling hot, I started to feel pressure building in the back of my skull and at my temples. I closed my eyes, leaned into Dean's back and concentrated on listening to them and breathing to keep control of the sudden fire.

As Mrs. Carrigan talked about how good meadowsweet smelled, Dean reached down and held onto my forearm as if he were trying to comfort me. When Mr. Carrigan asked what was going on, the pressure pulsed and I started itching. This was not good. This was so not good. Dean reached for some peanut brittle and Sam smacked his arm. I reached up and tugged on him.

Dean looked down at me, concern etched across his features. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

"I don't feel so good." I whispered, my voice shaking with the effort it was taking me to hold onto my fire. Dean looked alarmed when he got a good look at me. My head had started to pound. "I think we ought to go."

"Oh, and who is this little one?" asked Mrs. Carrigan.

"My daughter," Dean said. "And she's not feeling so well, so I think we ought to get going. Thank you for your time." As we walked towards the Impala, the pressure and burning started to fade a bit. "Do you need me to carry you?"

"No," I winced against the pressure. "It's getting better the farther we get from the house. But, Dean, I need to let this go. You have to get me somewhere before I lose it. Please!?"

"All right, get in the car. I'll take you somewhere." But once we were moving away from the house, the pressure eased back more. When we turned the corner to get back to the main road, the pressure was suddenly gone, the itching stopped, and my head stopped hurting.

"Dean, it's gone," I said.

"Gone? Just like that?"

"Yeah. When we turned the corner back there, it just faded."

Dean made a hmph noise. "Let's get your excess burned off anyway, just in case." He pulled into a home improvement store. "We need some pine stakes anyway."

The store didn't have any charcoal, but they did have faggots of wood. Dean shook his head when I pointed at them. "We can get them cheaper from someone selling them at the side of the road, or we can find a park and you can burn something there. I'm not wasting money on wood, unless you're in dire straits." Sam came back with six pine two-by-twos and we headed to the cash register.

On the way back to the hotel, Dean pulled off the side of the road into an area that had been cleared for construction. At the back of the lot, there were several downed trees and a pile of brush waiting to be removed. The amount of wood was amazing, and I really wanted to burn it all, right then. Dean parked a safe distance away from it, and I got out of the car and eagerly ran towards the pile.

"Jessie!" he called after me. "Wait for us! I mean it, little girl."

I slowed, but didn't stop. Once I got to the pile, I considered where I wanted to start. I could set the brush on fire or I could light a log on fire like I had when I'd gotten lost. The possibilities were endless. The pile was so big that I knew I wouldn't be able to burn it all in one flash. It was larger than the pile at the abandoned house had been and it had taken me three days to burn that to bits.

I decided to set a log on fire first. I wondered what would happen if I did that trick I did in the abandoned house where I'd built up pressure before I'd let go. What would it be like if I sent pressurized fire at a log? Would it explode?

"Jessie!" Dean warned, his voice far away still. I set my feet shoulder-width apart, braced myself, and imagined the furnace smaller than normal, but not as small as I had when I'd set the house on fire. I started to open the furnace when Dean grabbed my arm and swatted my butt several times, hard. Surprised, I clamped down on the furnace and shrieked.

"What the hell, Dean?" I exclaimed, whirling around and rubbing at the seat of my jeans when he let me go. Sam was just reaching us with the fire extinguishers.

"What did I say?" Dean asked angrily. I dropped my eyes, not wanting to admit that I hadn't really been listening. When I didn't answer, he repeated, "What did I just say?"

I shrugged. He shook his head. "Well that's just great, Jessie. I might as well be talking to the wind as to talking to you. You need to listen to me and not just go running off on your own. I don't care how excited you are. You got me, little girl?"

"It's a huge pile, Dean!" I objected. "It's not even around anything for the fire to spread to. Who cares if I just light it up before you get over with the equipment? It's not like it's even any danger."

Dean's face clouded. "Seriously? Are you seriously telling me you don't think that fire is dangerous?"

I flushed and shuffled my feet in the dirt. "I guess not," I said, half-heartedly, not really meaning it.

He threw his hands up. "Just light the damn thing up so we can get going," he said. I turned to face the pile, less excited now. I tightened up the furnace again and aimed at the log. I carefully opened the door.

The log burst into flames in the middle. Staying connected to the fire, I pushed and from the middle where I was aiming, the fire was doming out down each side of the wood, like one side was a reflection of the other. I gasped at the sight and pushed harder. The fire burned hotter and started to burn up each side like it was a match stick. I ran out of flame before I finished burning the log and the flame dropped off into embers. The middle of the log was ash.

All of us were quiet for a minutes, and then Dean went to hit the log with the fire extinguisher. "Oh my god, Jessie," Sam said. "How did you do that?"

"I don't know," I said. "I just tightened the flame, aimed at the middle, and pushed."

"That was beautiful," Sam said, awed.

Dean came back, looking cross. "But still dangerous." He pointed at the log. "Did that fall into something Bree said you could try?"

I nodded. "Yeah, back when we were hunting the ghost ship."

He looked slightly mollified, but still annoyed. I started to worry that I was going to be in more trouble for not listening, but he just shooed me back towards the car, and we headed back to the motel.

Once there, Sam sat down with his laptop immediately. Dean stalked over to my bed and picked up my butterfly backpack, digging around to pull out a notebook and a pen. He dropped the pack back on the floor and slammed the notebook down on the table with the pen. He pointed at me and then he pointed at the chair in front of the notebook.

I slowly walked over to the chair and sat down. "I want a list of what makes fire dangerous," he said. "I want you to write down everything you can think of. You don't get to cheat and look it up on the internet either. All of it is coming out of your head."

I frowned. "I know fire is dangerous, Dean!"

"Really?" he asked in a disbelieving tone. "You sure don't act like it. You go around setting things on fire left and right with no thought to what happens if it gets out of control."

"I know how to control it now!" I insisted. "I do it all the time! If it gets away from me all I have to do is pull it back into me!"

"And what about when it's too much? Huh, Jessie? What then? Then you burn out your brain and you die, or you let it go and destroy whatever is in the way." He glared at me and I glared right back.

"This is stupid!" I said. "I know what I'm doing now!"

"Are you telling me that you never make a mistake? You're never going to mess up? Is that what you're telling me? You can't lose control?" Dean demanded.

"I'm not writing your stupid list," I said, crossing my arms over my chest, mad now. I had control over it. Even when I lost control, I could regain it. I didn't see what his problem was. There was nothing to be worried about. Nothing!

Dean took a measured, slow step towards me, his head tilted. "You want to rethink that?" he asked me, his tone hard. My stomach plummeted as I realized just how angry I'd made him.

"Dean," I started, getting to my feet and holding my hands up to try to placate him.

"Get in the corner," he said, pointing to the one by his bed. "Go!" I went, scooting around him so he couldn't swat me. I stood in the corner with my heart pounding wondering how much worse I'd made it on myself.

He came up behind me and put a hand on the wall on either side of my head, leaning in to speak quietly in my ear. I fought not to shrink away from him. "You are not perfect. You are not always in control. I want you to stand here and think about all the ways you've lost control of your fire since you've had it and since you've gotten better control of it, and then when you're done, we're going to have a little talk. Are we clear?"

"Yes, Dean," I whispered, scared.

He pushed away from the wall. "And I don't want to hear another word out of you while you're in the corner. Not one."

I leaned my head against the wall. I heard Dean moving around the room and Sam typing away. Then I heard the distinct sound of metal on wood as he started carving stakes from the two-by-twos he'd bought.

After a while, Sam said that he found out that the Carrigans had lived in Seattle the previous year where there had also been abductions. Dean asked if they were keeping a pagan god under their plastic couch. Sam said that they had to check it out and asked if Bobby was sure that evergreen stakes would kill them. Dean said that he was sure. I heard him set down a stake.

"Jessie, get over here," Dean said. I turned around and walked slowly over to where he was sitting on the corner of the bed. He pulled me between his knees and looked up at me. "You think about what I told you to think about?" I flushed and looked away. "No? We'll just add that to the list of things that you're going to write down for me," he said.

My temper flared. "Since when are you all gung-ho on the fucking essays?" I asked angrily, meeting his eyes.

Dean's eyes widened. "Watch it, little girl," he growled, his eyes narrowing again. "I've got a bar of soap that can easily have your name on it." I dropped my eyes again and rubbed one of my hands up and down my other arm nervously.

"What the hell has gotten into you?" Dean asked. "You're losing your temper, you're arguing with me, and you're being a total brat. I'm tired of it, and I'm not going to put up with it. It ends now."

"Yes, Dean," I said, withering under his intense scrutiny.

"What is it that Sam always tells you when you don't want to do your schoolwork?"

Sam didn't even look up from his computer. "Do it or do it with a sore butt."

"That's the one," Dean said. "Looks like you picked the second one tonight."

"Dean!" I objected, but he just unbuttoned my jeans and yanked them down. He put me over his knee and brought his hand down. I yowled on the fifth swat and started kicking on the tenth, but he didn't stop. He ignored everything I did and just concentrated on his task. When he was done, he yanked my jeans back up and then set me down on his knee. My bottom was flaming and I squirmed, but he held me there.

"You're going to write me a list of why fire is dangerous. Then you're going to write down the times you've lost control, with specifics. I don't want to hear any more whining or complaining, either, or you're going back over my knee and I'll use the hairbrush," he took my chin in his hand and made me look at him. "There's a point to this. You need to realize just how dangerous your abilities are and stop acting like it's a game."

"Yes, Dean," I said. He let me off his knee. I trudged over to the notebook to start work.


	17. Chapter 17 - Home for Christmas

A couple hours later, I got up from the table and handed Dean my notebook. The why is fire dangerous part was pretty easy. I'd scrawled out things like fire moves very fast, can burn down a building in minutes, and can spread to other things or buildings. Fire burns people and destroys important things, like houses and forests. I'd even scribbled in there that it contributes to global warming.

When I'd gotten to the part where I was supposed to write out the times I'd lost control, I'd felt like a bucket of cold water had been thrown on me. The first thing I had to write down was about burning my house down and killing my parents, which was immediately sobering. As I'd scribbled out other times, I'd had to admit that in the cases where I had lost control, aside from in the abandoned house, the thing that had saved my ass and prevented more destruction was other people putting out the fires for me, or me having a safe place to get rid of the fire after I lost control. I mean, just that one time with Bree where I tried to set her on fire, it could have gone so much worse if she hadn't been able to put herself out.

Dean took my papers and read through them while I stood in front of him and fiddled nervously with my hair. "Did this make an impression on you?" he asked me, holding up the notebook when he was done. I nodded. He raised his eyebrows, "Wow, that's surprising. I wasn't sure anything was going to get through to you."

I flushed. "I'm not stupid," I said.

"No," he said, "but you are stubborn, and you've been taking your abilities for granted, forgetting anything but how much fun it is to burn things up and expanding what you can do." He held the notebook up again. "This is what you have to remember when you're running off towards a huge brush pile. This is what you have to remember when the pressure gets so much that you have to let it out." He dropped the notebook on the table. "Your abilities are dangerous and you don't have the best control. Do you understand that now?"

"Yes, Dean," I said, looking down at my feet.

"From now on, whenever you lose control, you're writing it in this notebook. I don't want you to forget again." Dean said. He picked it up and handed it back to me. "Go put it in your backpack."

I looked down at the notebook and my stomach started hurting. I looked up at Dean with my eyes full of tears. "I'm never going to make up for all of this?" I asked, the tears overflowing. "I'm never going to be forgiven?"

Dean's eyes widened and he leaned over and pulled me into his lap. "No, sweetheart. Of course you're forgiven. You're not a bad person. You don't lose control on purpose. There are always lessons to be learned, though. You can't forget. You can't let the fun parts of your abilities override how dangerous you know they are. Familiarity breeds contempt. That's all we're trying to prevent."

I rested my head on his shoulder. "My dad used to say that, too."

"Your dad was a smart man."

"He'd be happy that I have you and Sam now," I said. "That you guys take care of me and keep me safe."

Dean kissed the top of my head and helped me out of his lap. "Go put the notebook away, and then we'll go to an early dinner. Sammy and I have some work to do."

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I was rushing to finish Dean's bracelet. The guys had been gone for a while, off to the Carrigans' to get rid of the pagan god. I'd finished the cards and worked quickly on the bracelet. Once I'd made the decision on the bead, it had been easy. I was glad I'd been in the Girl Scout Brownies and had learned how to macramé. I was worried they'd make it back before I could finish.

I quickly wrapped the bracelets in brown paper bags that I had scavenged and stuck them in my backpack with the cards. I was supposed to be in bed at nine and it was almost ten. I climbed under my covers and waited.

About ten minutes later, Sam opened the door and carried in three bags and a Christmas tree. I didn't even bother to pretend to be asleep. "Hi, Sam."

"Come on, squirt," he said. "We're going to decorate the room for Christmas to surprise Dean. We have to hurry because I sent him to get beer."

I jumped up. We spent a rushed ten minutes hanging up a Merry Christmas sign over the TV and decorating the tree with air fresheners and fishing bobbers. I giggled. "Where did you get these?"

"At the gas station," he said. He poured three glasses of eggnog and put bourbon in two of them. We just finished when Dean walked in. He smiled when he saw everything we'd done and asked why Sam had changed his mind. Sam didn't answer, but encouraged him to try the eggnog. Then we sat down and Dean gave Sam some presents, skin magazines and shaving cream. Sam gave Dean motor oil and a candy bar.

While they drank their eggnog, I got up and pulled the cards and bracelets from my backpack. Flushing with embarrassment, I handed each of them their presents. Sam opened his card first, his face softening when he saw the card, on which I'd drawn a Christmas tree with Latin symbols hanging from it, and the two of us holding hands. In his other hand was a book. I'd written "Merry Christmas, Sam. I love you" on it, and signed it.

"Come here, squirt," Sam said, pulling me into his lap and hugging me close. With me on his lap and his arm around my waist, he opened the wrapping on the bracelet and pulled out the green and black bracelet with the uncle bead in the middle. He smiled. "I love it," he said, kissing my head. He handed it to me and gave me his arm so I could put it on him.

While I fastened Sam's bracelet on him, Dean opened his card, on which I'd drawn the Impala with a Christmas tree on the roof. He and I were in front of the Impala and I'd tried to draw him with his arm around me, but it had ended up looking kind of weird. He smiled softly anyway as he read the message. "Merry Christmas, Dean. I love you." He gestured to me to come over to him and pulled me into his lap to open his bracelet. When he pulled it out of the package and saw the blue and black bracelet with the dad bead in the middle, tears came to his eyes. I hugged him to me while he put it on.

"Sorry the cards were so generic. I just… you guys mean so much to me. I didn't know how to say that," I said into Dean's chest.

"We love them, sweetheart," Dean said. "I got something for you, too." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a little package wrapped in notebook paper. With shaking hands, I took it from him and opened it. Inside was a leather cord with a symbol on the end of it. I looked up at Dean. "It's a protective amulet," he said. "It will keep demons from possessing you until you're grown up and we can get you a tattoo. Turn it over."

I flipped it over and on the back was an engraving that said "Jessie Elizabeth Winchester." Tears filled my eyes. Dean put the amulet over my head and I looked down at it resting over my heart and smiled.

Not to be outdone, Sam reached under the couch and pulled out a tiny package. He scooted closer to Dean and handed it to me. When I took it from him, it gave under the pressure of my fingers. I ripped off the paper to find the little snowman I'd been looking at in the Christmas shop.

It was the last straw. I burst into tears. "Thank you," I cried. "Thank you so much. I love the amulet and the snowman. I don't deserve you both." Dean hugged me close to him.

Sam asked Dean if he wanted to watch the game, and Dean agreed. Content and happy, I rested my head on Dean's chest as Sam turned on the television. Dean wrapped his arm around my waist and I clutched the little snowman with one hand and the amulet with the other while they watched the game. I smiled and drifted off to sleep, safe in Dean's arms.


	18. Chapter 18 - Witch's Promise

I was lying on Dean's bed with my head upside down off the end watching a documentary on pool. The guys had gone out to research a weird death where a woman's teeth had all fallen out before she died. It was a week and a half since Christmas and I was eager for my hunting moratorium to be lifted. I'd been watching Dean and Sam both when they did things like clean their weapons or sharpen them. I wasn't allowed on the laptop when they weren't here, but I'd spent some time hanging over Sam's shoulder watching him research the case, until he'd figured out what I was doing and shooed me away to go work on my actual schoolwork.

Before Sam had found this case, the guys had spent a few days hustling money at pool halls, and while they'd let me in the pool hall and I'd watched them, I had no idea how to play pool. I'd added it to the list of things that I needed to learn, though, that and poker.

I heard the Impala drive up and changed the channel. When the door opened, the television was on Law and Order. I left it there liked I'd been watching it all along. Dean was bitching and moaning about witches and how disgusting they were. I switched the television off and sat up. I hadn't heard them talk about witches before.

He didn't give me much to go on, since he was basically just complaining in general, so I asked, "What kind of witches?"

Dean smirked. "You got four more days before you get any more hunting lessons," he said. I rolled my eyes. They started changing out of their suits and into their normal clothing. Since I wasn't going to get anything out of them, I turned the television back on and flopped back down to watch it upside down.

"Whatcha doin', squirt?" Sam asked me, coming over to sit next to me after he was dressed more normally.

Upside down still, I gestured vaguely to the television with the remote. "Law and Order," I said.

"You finish your schoolwork?"

I shrugged, not looking away from the television. Sam shook his head, took the remote from me, and turned the television off. "Come on, get to it," Sam said.

I got up on my knees and reached for the remote, which was now on the other side of Sam. "I got loads of time, Sam. You said yourself that I'm ahead of where kids that are actually in school now are."

Sam picked up the remote and got up. "Yeah. You've done a great job and there's no reason to slack off now. I gave you two assignments. They're not that hard. I'll give you the remote back when you're done with them." I glared at him as he stuck the remote in his laptop bag.

Then I shrugged, got up, and walked over to the television to turn it on manually. As I reached for the power button, Sam said, "You want to sit uncomfortably at dinner, go ahead." I looked over to see him cross his arms over his chest. I dropped my hand and sighed.

"Come on," I whined. He raised his eyebrows and shook his head.

"Jessie," Dean said, coming out of the bathroom. "Get your stuff. We're going to go eat and then wait around for a guy to get attacked by some witches. You want in on that?"

I smiled. "Hell, yeah," I said. I went to grab my Game Boy, but Sam plucked it out of my hand and put it next to the remote in his laptop bag. He pointed to my butterfly bag instead. Defeated, I grabbed my butterfly bag and followed them out the door.

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While we were waiting for the witches to do whatever witchy thing they were going to do, I did my schoolwork and then got Dean to play "I spy" with me for about a half hour. I was trying to talk Sam into playing twenty questions when the guy that we were watching opened the door of his car and fell out choking.

I dropped back into my seat as Dean gunned it, flying over the curb to pull up next to him. I climbed out of the car while Dean tried to help the guy who was choking. Sam rummaged around in the guy's car until he found a little bulge of leather, which he lit on fire with a torch that he had in his pocket, burning it to bits. The guy stopped choking.

Dean and Sam got the name of the woman he was cheating on his wife with and the woman's address out of him. Then we were back in the car and driving across town again.

As we drove, I asked, "What the hell was that pouch thing?"

"Hex bag," Dean said. "Witches use them to hurt or kill people they're mad at."

"So, they put that thing somewhere near the victim and then the witch can kill the person from far away?" I asked, awed.

"Hey," Dean said, looking at me in the rearview mirror, "Get that note of admiration out of your voice. Witches are bad news. They make deals with demons for their powers and any demon deal is a bad idea."

"Unless it's you, right, Dean?" Sam asked in a sarcastic tone.

Dean glared at him. "That's different," he said, but then they both just let it go. I knew that they were talking about the deal that Dean made with the Crossroads Demon to bring Sam back, the one that was going to send him to hell in just a few short months. I swallowed against tears as Dean looked in the mirror and said, "Screwing around with demons is not a good idea."

We pulled up near a house. Dean got out of the car, stuck his head back in, and said, "Stay here." They headed towards the house.

I shrugged. I wished Sam had let me bring along my Game Boy. I smiled to myself. I bet after the pain in the ass I'd made of myself on the way here, he'd wished he had, too. I saw a light go on in the front window and when I didn't hear yelling, shouting, or shooting, I decided that it was probably safe to go see what was going on. Besides, after hearing what hex bags did, I really wanted to see what the witch had been doing on her side.

I opened the front door to the house as quietly as I could and crept to the only room in the house with the lights on, which is where I assumed the guys were. I was right. I found Sam and Dean next to a table with a sigil-carved board, rotted food, and a woman's body. Their backs were to me. Her wrists had obviously been slit and she'd bled out. There was blood all over the place. A dead rabbit was hanging from the ceiling, its blood drained into chalices. An opened hex bag was on the table with its contents scattered.

"Oh my god," I breathed, shocked at the blood and the dead body. I felt like I was going to throw up. For some reason, the poor dead bunny made it so much worse. I felt a little faint.

At the sound of my voice, Dean whirled around. His face grew grim, eyebrows knitted furiously. "I told you to stay in the damned car," he said. "What are you doing in here?"

My face white and my mouth dry, I looked up at him. "I wanted to see the witch. I thought it would be safe." I glanced at Sam who was regarding me with his jaw clenched, clearly displeased.

Dean came towards me and grabbed my arm, dragging me to the front door. "What did I tell you?" Sam was following up behind.

"Stay in the car," I said, trying to free my arm from his tightly gripped hand and not having much luck. When he figured out what I was doing, he shook me.

"You stay where we tell you to stay. It's not safe to just go walking into places. You never know what's going on," he scolded, as he walked me out to the Impala. "Get in the car."

"Sorry, Dean," I said softly. A bit shocky because of what I'd seen, I struggled with the door handle until Dean opened it for me.

"Sit back there and think about why I don't want you following us into hunts," Dean growled at me. That was fine by me. I was so freaked out by the bunny and the teeth and blood. I shuddered and stared out the window as Dean started the car and drove back to the motel. By the time we got back, I was crying silently.

When Sam turned around to say something to me and saw me crying, his face softened. He smacked Dean lightly on the shoulder. When Dean saw me crying, he said, "_Now_ you're sorry?"

I shook my head. "There was all that blood, and the poor lady, and the bunny." My throat choked and I started sobbing so hard I was shaking.

The next thing I knew, Dean had the back door open and was pulling me out and carrying me into the room. He sat down in the chair that was sitting off to the side of the room and held me to him. "This," he said to me in a soothing voice, rocking me. "This is why we don't want you following on hunts. We don't want you hurt. We don't want you to see dead bodies. You need to stay where we tell you to stay, ok?"

I sobbed into his jacket and didn't say anything. He rocked me and held me until I fell asleep.

The next morning, I woke up in my bed, sans shoes and jeans. My head hurt from crying so hard the night before. Sam and Dean were eating breakfast at the table next to Sam's bed, already dressed. I stumbled out of bed, grabbed my bag of clothes, and headed into the bathroom where I took two ibuprofen and a shower. I got dressed. When I came out of the bathroom, I felt more normal.

Sam and Dean were shrugging into their suit coats. I stopped. "Where you guys going?"

"To find the coven," Dean said. "Do some research. You know, normal hunting stuff."

"Don't I get to come?" I asked in a small voice, worried I already knew the answer.

"After what you pulled yesterday? I don't think so, little girl," Dean said.

"But," I said.

Dean held up a hand. "I don't want to hear it. You're restricted to the room. You're lucky that's all." I looked at Sam for help, but he shook his head.

"Add another week to no hunting lessons," Sam said.

"That's…" I started, but Dean interrupted.

"Not fair? Is it?" He took a step towards me so that he was towering over me and looked down with his eyebrows raised. I fought the urge to take a step back. "The next time you disobey an order to stay put without a damn good reason, I'm taking off my belt. How's that for fair?"

I looked up into his angry eyes and swallowed. When I didn't answer, he nodded his head. "Stay here. Be good. We'll be back later." The two of them walked out the door.


	19. Chapter 19 - Burn the Witch

The guys picked me up later that evening and took me to dinner. They'd found the coven and visited the local library to do research on recent news articles. Sam had a whole folder on recent raffle and contest winners. I tried to get a good look at the folder, but Sam wouldn't let me near it and gave me a quenching look when I tried to sneak it away from him.

On the way back to the motel, they talked about how the women they'd talked to were very likely the coven and that those women had a way better than average run of good luck recently. Sam said that the coven needed to be stopped because they were murderers, which seemed to surprise Dean a little, but Dean was all in agreement.

The car suddenly stalled, which made me jump. Dean brought the car to a stop right in front of a woman with long blonde hair standing in the middle of the road. Dean whipped around in his seat. "You stay here," he said fiercely. "Don't get out of the car."

"Dean," Sam said in a soothing tone, but relented when Dean turned a fierce look on him.

They both got out of the car and before Sam closed the door, I heard him say "Ruby." The windows were shut against the winter rain, so I couldn't hear much of what they said after that. I held my breath when Dean pulled the old revolver he'd told me not to touch on Ruby, but he didn't pull the trigger. I heard 'witches are whores', 'please tell me you're not listening to this crap', 'put a leash on your brother', and 'I'm telling you to shut up, bitch.' The conversation escalated from there until Dean went to pull the trigger and Sam grabbed his arm. I shrieked when the gun went off and by the time I recovered, Ruby was gone.

Dean glared at Sam and they got back in the car. For the rest of the five minutes to the motel, Dean was silent with that thoughtful, angry look on his face, but for once, it wasn't aimed at me. As we walked into the room, Dean said "What the hell were you thinking?" I turned to answer him, thinking he was talking to me, but he was talking to Sam.

I sat down on my bed and tried to stay out of the line of fire as Sam and Dean discussed the fact that Sam was friendly with Ruby, who was, apparently, a demon. My eyes grew wide as I listened to them argue, Dean yelling at Sam and Sam trying to soothe him with explanations and assurances. Dean accused Sam of not acting like himself, and then Sam told him that in order for Sam to survive after Dean was gone, Sam had to start acting more like Dean.

That's when Dean doubled over, like he was in a lot of pain. He told Sam that it had to be the coven. Sam gestured at me to help as he raced to look under the sink. "Look for a hex bag," he said to me. "Look everywhere!" He started tearing through the room. I jumped up and started helping, looking in, under, and around everything I could see. Dean got worse and started coughing up blood. Sam ripped into the mattress with a knife to see if the bag was there, but it wasn't. He said he couldn't find it and then pointed at me.

"Keep looking!" he ordered, racing out of the room. I heard the Impala start up and drive off. I kept searching but had no idea what I was looking for or where I should be looking. A couple minutes later, Ruby burst into the room. I jumped back from the open door and flattened myself against the wall.

Ruby tossed Dean onto the bed and poured some sort of black liquid down his throat. I was so startled, it didn't even occur to me to try to stop her. It was over before I knew it, and Dean was ok and sitting up in the bed. I slid around to the bathroom and got him a towel to wipe his face with. I hugged him as he wiped off the blood. "Sorry," I said. "I didn't know what to do."

He finished wiping his mouth and hugged me with his free arm. "You did just fine," he said softly to me. I didn't care what he said, though. I swore to myself that next time someone attacked him or Sam, I wasn't just going to stand there and let them do it. It could have turned out so much worse.

Ruby stared at us with curiosity. "Who the hell is that?"

Dean glared at her. "None of your business."

She shrugged and told him that the next time he pointed a gun at her, she wasn't going to just disappear. She tossed him a shotgun. They exchanged a few more words and then she left.

"What now?" I asked Dean. He stood up.

"Now I go help Sam with those witches," he said. "You stay here." He headed towards the door.

My stomach dropped in fear. "Dean! We didn't find the hex bag. They might do something to me. Please don't leave me here."

He paused at the door, clearly worried about bringing me. "All right. Come on." He stole a car and drove us to the coven, which he located by looking for the Impala in the neighborhood they had been canvassing. When we got there, he said, "Get in the Impala and stay put."

"Ok," I said. He ran towards the house. I looked at the Impala and considered getting in, but I didn't want him and Sam being attacked again with no help. I took a deep breath and followed him, all the while knowing and guilty that I was disobeying. As I got there and looked in through the open front door, the witch slammed Dean into the wall of the living room and held him there.

I freaked out. Sam was trapped, Dean was trapped. She was going to kill them both. Guilt gone, I ran into the room and Dean yelled, "No!" as I opened the furnace within me, aimed it at the demon, and pushed, letting it go as it hit her.

The demon went up in flames, her clothing, hair, and skin burning, but neither Sam nor Dean was released from her hold, and she didn't actually seem to be bothered by it.

She turned to me with black eyes and crooned, "Oh, a fire starter. How interesting... I'll save you to play with later." And then she put the fire out and waved her arm. I flew across the room and banged hard into the wall, sliding down to the floor, dazed. Weight pressed down on me. The scariest thing was that I couldn't access my fire. I'd been completely cut off, and all I could see was the ceiling.

I could only listen as Ruby tried to kill the other demon. There was fighting, the new demon mocked Ruby for having been human, and then there was more fighting. Suddenly, I could feel my fire again, the weight no longer pressing down on me. I sat up to see Dean stabbing the demon in the back.

As Dean helped Sam up, I got to my feet and walked over to them. There was nothing wrong with me, but Sam was clenching his ribs. Dean picked up the revolver and his shotgun. Ruby said that she would clean up the mess and told us to go. I followed Sam and Dean out of the house.

The short ride back to the motel was quiet. As we walked into the room, Dean snapped his fingers at me and pointed to the corner. My heart plummeted. "Dean?" I asked tentatively. The look he gave me was scary, and I subsided and slipped into the corner without another word.

"Keep an eye on her, would you, Sam?" Dean asked before slamming out of the room.

"Do I need to keep an eye on you?" Sam asked me, coughing a little. I shook my head, and he said, "Good," and walked into the bathroom.

I was in so much trouble. I rested my head against the walls and counted the ways. I'd disobeyed a direct order. I hadn't stayed where I'd been told to stay. I'd attacked a demon with my fire. I'd almost gotten hurt because of all that. I felt guilty that I'd scared the guys, but I couldn't just let them get hurt, could I?

Dean was gone for a long time, long enough for Sam to take a shower and get into bed, and for my feet to start hurting. When Dean slammed back into the room, I glanced at him quickly from the corner. He didn't seem any calmer than he'd been when he'd left. In fact, he seemed a little more agitated.

I heard him pull a chair away from the table. "Jessie, come here," he said.

"I'm ok here," I said, not turning from the corner, a little scared and dreading what was about to come.

"Jessie!" he snapped. "Do not make me repeat myself." I hung my head and dragged myself out of the corner. Sam was sitting on Dean's bed with his back against the wall still holding his ribs. Dean was standing behind the chair with his hand on its back. Oh, this wasn't good. It was never good when he made me sit. He pointed to the chair, and with a heavy heart, I sat down and stared at my hands.

"You wanna explain what the hell happened back there?" he ground out.

"Not really," I whispered. I started picking bits of plaster dust off my jeans. I really needed to visit a Laundromat soon. I had only one pair of clean jeans left.

Dean slammed his hand down on the table next to me. I jumped and hurriedly focused on him. He leaned down and looked me in the eye, his eyebrows knitted and his face angry. "Tell me why you're in trouble, little girl."

"I don't know," I whispered, unable to bring myself to confess to what I knew I'd done.

Dean grabbed another chair and whirled it around on one leg so he could sit down in front of me, half-straddling the chair. He leaned over, putting his elbows on his knees and looked at me from beneath raised brows. He held up one finger. "I told you to get in the Impala. I told you to stay there. You didn't." He held up another finger. "You burst into the middle of a fight and attacked a demon." He held up a third finger. "You showed the demon that you can set fires with your mind."

"You never told me that I should keep it a secret," I objected quietly.

He slammed his hand down on the table again and I jumped again. "Oh, so you thought it was a good idea to show demons that you can set people on fire with your mind? You thought everyone should know that?"

I flushed and shook my head. He nodded. "Do not feed me a line of crap, little girl. I can see right through you, and it doesn't win you any points." I stared down at my knees and tried to keep from crying.

"What did I tell not ten hours ago?" Dean ground out. I felt the blood drain out of my face.

"I had a good reason," I said. "You were being attacked! The demon was going to kill you! She was going to kill Sam! I couldn't just stand there and let that happen!" My heart was racing at the idea of losing them both.

"That is not a good reason," Dean yelled, losing his temper. He stood up and his chair flipped over backwards. "You do not protect us. We protect you! You shouldn't have been close enough to even know that happened because I told you to get in the damn car!" He stood there breathing hard and staring me in the eye while I fought back tears.

"It's not fair!" I wailed, losing the battle with my tears. "I have to just let you get killed?"

"Do we look dead? You getting involved didn't help at all and, in fact, revealed a crapload of information that I would rather demons _do not have_!" Dean snapped. "You are eleven, little girl. _Eleven_. When I tell you to get in the car, you stay in the damned car! And you will learn that, by god. Now what did I tell you this morning?"

I covered my face with my hands. "You told me that you'd take off your belt if I didn't stay put when I was told to stay put."

"Get up, drop your jeans, and lean over the table," Dean said, his voice angrily resigned.

I obeyed, unbuttoning my jeans and letting them pool around my feet on the floor before I leaned over the table. I heard Dean unbuckle his belt and turned my head to watch him slide it out of his belt loops. I swallowed hard. "I'm sorry, Dean. I won't do it again. Please…? Please?!"

"You're right. You won't do it again, because you'll know what you're going to get if you do," he said. I buried my head in my arms on the table and braced myself.

The first smack of the thick leather burned like a motherfucker and I shrieked. I shrieked again when the second and third fell, and then my butt was a blazing fire of pain and I couldn't count any more. I tried to pull away, but Dean pulled me close to him and kept me there. I stomped my feet because standing meant I couldn't kick. After a few more, I was sobbing, the fire in my butt only broken by yet another stinging slash of the leather. There was no way I was ever breaking that rule again, not ever.

My bottom was burning even after he stopped. He sat down in the chair I'd vacated and helped me step out of my jeans. He pulled me into his lap to hold me, my butt carefully balanced so that it wasn't in contact with his rough jeans. I wrapped my arms around his neck and sobbed into his chest. He rubbed my back and held me. "Don't make me do that again, little girl." I shook my head.

We sat like that for a few minutes until I stopped crying. "I love you, Jessie. I don't want you hurt or in danger when it can be easily avoided. Understand?"

"Yes, Dean," I whispered.

"That's another thing," he said thoughtfully. "I've noticed that when you agree with me, you say 'Yes, Dean,' and when you're just trying to get me to leave you alone or avoid arguing with me, you say 'Ok' even if you don't agree or you're not going to do whatever it is."

I looked up at him. Yeah, I did that. It felt less like lying if I didn't say 'Yes,' and 'Ok' was kind of non-committal. He shook his head and said, "From now on, when I tell you to do something, you say 'Yes, Dean.' No more of this avoidance. You got me?"

I slumped my shoulders. I couldn't come up with a reason not to, but I really didn't want to agree. When I didn't answer right away, Dean nudged me, "You need me to make a stronger point about this?"

I shook my head frantically, aware that my butt was still on fire from the lashing I'd just received.

"Then do you understand me?" Dean asked, punctuating each word.

"Yes, Dean," I whimpered.

"Good girl," he said. "Come on, get your jeans and get ready for bed."

I got up and picked up my jeans, glancing at Sam where he was resting on Dean's bed. He gave me a hard look. "You're lucky that I'm not feeling so great," he said, holding his ribs. "If Dean hadn't done that, I would've."

"I'm sorry, Sam," I whispered, coming closer to stand next to the bed. "I didn't mean to scare you."

He shook his head and groaned with the effort. "You're on restriction," he said. "And you'll be doing lines, but you'll have to wait for them." He nodded his chin in the direction of my bed. "Go to bed."

"Yes, Sam," I said, dropping my eyes. "I love you. I'm sorry."

"I love you, too, squirt."

With that, I trudged off to get ready for bed, unsure how I was going to put on pajama bottoms with my butt stinging so much, and sure that I was never going to learn anything about hunting the way I was going.


	20. Chapter 20 - Helpless

I followed Dean into a third bar. Sam had said he was going out a few hours ago and left the motel room we were staying in. We were supposed to be hitting the road today and when check out time had come and gone Dean had gotten antsy, even though we weren't on a hunt and it was unlikely Sam was in any danger. He'd started dragging me to all the likely places Sam could have gone that were within a reasonable walking distance from the motel room.

This bar was a shit hole, although it had a pool table and a juke box. Sam was sitting at a table in the middle of the place nursing a glass of some brown liquid. Even I could tell he was drunk so while he and Dean talked, I wandered off to Sam's right to watch two men play pool. I'd only been standing there a minute when one of the men looked at me and smiled. "You wanna learn how to play?" The other man rolled his eyes and walked off in disgust.

I smiled and nodded. I glanced over at Dean, but he was just sitting down next to Sam and ordering a drink. I didn't figure it would matter much. I wasn't any more than twenty feet away from them. I walked closer to the man. "What's your name," the man asked me.

"Jessie," I said.

"You know anything about pool?"

"A little," I said. "I've watched my dad play." I nodded at Dean where he was sitting next to Sam.

The man said, "I'll show you. Take this stick." I accepted the pool cue from him and held it uncertainly. The last time we'd been in a pool hall, I'd been relegated to sitting at a table and working on my schoolwork. I wasn't sure how to hold it, and the stick was as tall as I was. The man shook his head. "No, let me show you," he said, taking the cue back from me. He held it in the proper fashion and then handed it back to me. I tried to mimic him, but he still wasn't satisfied with how I was holding it. The man shook his head, and then started to move my arms to hold onto the cue in the way he felt was proper. He kept bumping into me, too. In the end, he was behind me with his body pressed up against mine, and I wasn't holding the cue any differently than I had been.

"Ok, that's right," the man said. "Now bend a little and line up the cue with the ball." He was breathing a little fast for some reason and I was starting to get seriously uncomfortable with how close he was to me and how he was touching me, but I didn't know what to do about it. I tried to line up the cue with the ball without bending, but the man said, "No, you have to bend or you can't get a good strike." He put his hands on my waist and started to press as if to force me to bend.

"Get your fucking hands off her," Dean said, coming out of nowhere and shoving the man away from me and into the wall. He pushed me behind him. "You all right, Jessie?"

Confused, I said, "Yes," in a soft voice. I had no idea what was going on, and I was embarrassed at the fuss Dean was making. Now everyone in the bar was looking at us. I wondered if I'd done something wrong or was in some kind of trouble. Then Sam was there and pushing me behind him, too. I grabbed the back of his jacket for comfort.

"You should keep a better eye on your daughter," the man said. I couldn't see his face, but his voice was menacing. I flushed, now sure I'd done something wrong.

Dean tensed and raised his arm. I was sure that he was about to punch the man. "You should keep your hands off eleven-year-olds," he growled.

The bartender cocked a shotgun and both Dean and the man froze. "No fighting in my bar," the bartender said. "Take it outside."

Dean held his hands up. With one final glare at the man, he turned around, took my hand, and the three of us left.

Dean opened the back passenger side door to the Impala and asked, "You sure you're ok?"

I nodded as I got in and then looked up at him, "Yeah," I paused, uncertain whether I wanted to ask. I couldn't stand it. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, sweetheart," Dean said, crouching down next to me and fastening my seatbelt for me. "But you need to be more careful around strangers. That man was bad news."

"Yeah," I said. "I didn't like how he was touching me."

"Remember, you can always come get me or yell for me if you ever feel uncomfortable," he said. "It's ok to make a scene when you're uncomfortable with something someone is doing to you. That's what you're supposed to do."

I thought about that. "Ok," I said.

"Next time someone asks if you want to do something, especially if you don't know them, but even if you do, you come ask me or Sam, ok?"

"Yes, Dean," I said, feeling a little better. He ruffled my hair, shut my door, and went around to his side to get in the car. "Where we going?" I asked.

"Something's wrong with Bobby," he said, starting the car once Sam was settled. "We're headed to Pittsburgh."

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We drove through the night, and I slept in the back seat. We got to the hospital early the next morning. Dean found out the room number and the three of us headed into the room. When I saw Bobby lying in bed, all pale and lifeless-looking, I started crying. Dean pulled me to him and I wrapped my arms around his waist and sobbed into his shirt.

Sam picked up Bobby's chart from the end of the bed and started flipping through it. After a minute or so, he set it back down. "Nothing," he said, coming back to stand next to us as we looked down at Bobby.

When the doctor came in, Dean unwound my arms from his waist and turned me towards Sam. I slipped my arm under Sam's jacket and pressed myself into his side, wrapping my other arm around his stomach. He put his hand on my back and rubbed while Dean asked questions. The doctors had no idea what was wrong with Bobby, just that he was comatose. Since they had no idea why, they couldn't wake him up.

After staying with Bobby for a while, all of us in a worried haze, we left the hospital and headed towards the motel Bobby had been staying in. The room was exceedingly neat, almost suspiciously so to me, having been in his house, but I guessed when you're on the road, you want to get the hell out as soon as possible. It's no time for nesting, as my mom would have called it.

I helped the guys look around the room for any clue to Bobby's condition. Eventually, Sam found a bunch of photos, news clippings, and other evidence on the back wall of the closet, behind Bobby's clothes. The guys looked at it for a bit, and then Dean decided to go talk to the university while Sam looked at the research that Bobby had been doing.

I got up to follow Dean out to the Impala, but Dean shook his head. "Nope, stay here with Sam."

"I want to go with you," I whined. I stuck my hand into his jacket pocket and grabbed a handful of the cloth.

"I'm going to go be a cop," Dean said. "Cops don't drag their kids with them. You know that." He reached into his pocket and gently disentangled my hand. "Stay here with Sam."

I pouted and wrapped my arms around his arm. "Please?" I asked, looking up at him. "Let me come."

Dean's face softened, but then he swallowed and took a deep breath. "Jessie," he said sternly. "We don't have time for this. We need to find out what's going on with Bobby sooner rather than later. Stay here."

I dropped his arm and went to flop on one of the beds. Dean turned to walk out the door, but then looked at me again. He came back to me and hugged me. "Sweetheart, it's going to be ok. I'll be back in a few hours. Ok?"

"Ok," I said. After Dean had gone, I pulled a chair from the table and dragged it over to sit near Sam. "He's coming back, right?"

Sam was looking at all the evidence on the wall. He glanced at me before saying, "He's coming back. What's got you so worried?"

"Just, Bobby, I guess," I said. "If that can happen to Bobby, it could happen to you or to him. I don't want to lose him before I have to." I stared down at the floor. "I don't want to lose you guys at all."

Sam set down the stuff he was looking at and hugged me. I buried my face into his shoulder as he said, "We're going to figure it out. We're going to get Bobby back. It's going to be ok. This is what we do and we're good at it, ok?"

I nodded my head, still pressed into his shoulder. He stroked my hair and said, "You wanna help me go through all this stuff? Your restriction from hunting lessons ended yesterday."

I lifted my head off of his shoulder hopefully. Sam nodded once. "Ok, so what we can tell from this is that he was looking into some sort of plant. See here, and here?"

We spent the rest of the afternoon with Sam showing me exactly how he figured things out. Eventually I went and got my notebook and started making notes for myself so I wouldn't forget. It was an awesome afternoon.

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Dean called later and spoke to Sam for a while, after which we headed to a library to do some serious research in some big books. I wrote down where he went in the library and what he looked for, but following along in his reading wasn't in the cards. First, it was all in Latin, of which I knew none. Second, any words in English were uber-long and I had no idea what they meant without half a day and a dictionary. I played with my Game Boy while Sam trolled through books. He made a bunch of copies and then we headed to the hospital.

When we got to the hospital, Dean was sitting at Bobby's bedside. I plastered myself to him for about thirty seconds before he got up to talk to Sam. Then, while Sam explained about the dream root to Dean, I sat next to Bobby and held his hand. I was so worried about him, that the killer was going to kill him in his sleep. These three men were so important to me. I wanted them happy and healthy; well, as happy and healthy as they could be, I guess.

My stomach roiled with worry and angst. I felt so powerless, so lost. Visiting hours ended and the three of us left the hospital, me between them and holding both of their hands for comfort. They sounded just as lost as I was. Sam pointed out that about now, we'd be calling Bobby for help, and Dean suggested that they use the dream root to go into Bobby's dream and talk to him there. After a fast discussion, Sam agreed. The only problem was that we didn't have any dream root. Then Dean thought of asking Bela. We headed back out for food and a little burning before going back to the motel.

Sam and Dean both knuckled down on the research once we were back in the room. Sam insisted I work on my schoolwork instead of trying to help them, and for once, I didn't argue. I couldn't concentrate because of how worried I was, so I didn't get much done before Dean was shuffling me off to bed.

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I woke up when someone knocked on the door. I rolled over in my bed to see Dean letting Bela in. I pretended to be asleep while she gave Dean the dream root and told him that she was doing it because Bobby had saved her life once. Dean told her to get her own room and she left in a huff.

I climbed out of bed. "Are you guys going to take that now?" I asked as Sam walked into the little kitchenette.

"Soon as Sammy gets it brewed up," Dean said. "And what are you doing up? Go back to bed."

"Can I go in, too?" I asked, ignoring him and sitting next to him on his bed. Belying his order, he dropped his arm around me and pulled me close to him. I rested my head on his shoulder.

"No, you can't go in," he said. "It's going to be dangerous in there. We have no idea what we're walking into, but it's probably a nightmare. I need you to stay out here and help us by keeping an eye out while we're asleep."

I turned my head so he couldn't see my expression and rolled my eyes. That was such a "keep the kid busy" answer. At least he was being nice about it. He tapped my side where his hand was resting. "Let's get you back into bed."

I slid off the end of the bed and held his hand while he led me to my bed. "If you want me to go back to sleep, how am I supposed to keep an eye out while you're sleeping?" I objected mildly, getting under my covers.

He sighed and sat down on my bed. "Look, Jessie, I get it. You're worried. You don't want anything bad to happen to us, but we got this covered. There's nothing to worry about. No one is going to break in and do anything to us. Just get the rest that you so desperately need so I don't have to yell at you for being a grumpy little girl tomorrow. Ok?" He looked at me with a mildly put-upon and pleading expression. I smiled despite myself.

"Yes, Dean," I said. He ruffled my hair and then kissed me on the top of my head. I slid under the covers and he pulled them up to my neck. He crouched down and reached under my bed, pulling up the little snowman Sam had given me for Christmas. He handed it to me.

"Thanks," I said softly, tucking the snowman up by neck. "Good night."

"Good night, sweetheart," he said.

I half closed my eyes and watched as Sam brought out the tea he had made and dropped some of Bobby's hair into it. They drank and the next thing I knew, they were both out of it on the beds.

I slipped out of bed and into the little kitchenette. Sam had brewed the tea until it was frothy. There was some left at the bottom of the pot he'd used. I glanced at where they were lying on the beds, dead to the world. I'd just go into the dream and watch. I didn't have to do anything. I'd just make sure they were ok.

There were no other cups in the room, just the two the guys had used. I fetched Dean's, rinsed it out, and poured the remaining tea into it. It only was about a third of an actual cup. I drank the tea, holding it in my mouth without swallowing, and then dropped the cup where Dean had left it. I went back to my bed, got under the covers, and swallowed. As the tea went down my throat, I realized that I had forgotten to add Bobby's hair.


	21. Chapter 21 - All Nightmare Long

_I was surrounded by fire. It sang through me, poured from me. Everything was ablaze, but I wasn't. I was naked and surrounded by smoke, ash, and flame. Heat pounded through me and I reveled in it, felt it, pushed until the haze of pleasure faded. __I sat in the bed, staring at my room. This was definitely a dream. It had happened before. It didn't feel like a dream, though. Unlike all of the other times I'd ended up here, this felt like it was real. I tried to wake myself up, but nothing happened._

_I got out of the bed and walked calmly from the room, the flame never touching me. I glanced at the door to my parents' room and decided not to open it this time. It had only caused me heartache in the past. I turned to the right and walked down the stairs, the fire pouring after me in a stream, like it was following me. The front door to the house was already open. I went outside._

_I stopped. I was surrounded by corn on three sides and I could hear cows in the distance. It was bright sunny day, now. I looked down and found myself clothed in a brightly colored skirt, an embroidered blouse, and a vest. The skirt had another skirt under it and a swathe of cloth was tied around my waist. I reached up and found a stiff wreath on my head. I pulled it off and found it full of yellow flowers._

_I dropped it on the ground and turned around to go back into my house, only to find a house that was not my house. It was more like a stone cottage. It fitzed like a bad television picture and was a wooden cottage. Again, and it was made of logs with a thatched roof. Again, and it was a different stone cottage. I turned to run and almost ran over a middle aged woman in an outfit like mine only her hair was covered with a kerchief, and her dress was red. She fitzed and was old, and then again and was young, but in the same clothes._

This is a dream_, I thought. I don't have to be afraid. This is just a lucid dream. Nothing bad can happen to me here. It's quite literally all in my head. Bolstered, I chased away my fears and straightened. "Who are you?" I demanded._

_She came toward me and reached out a hand. "The question is not who am I, but who are you?" she said, touching my cheek. "Do you not wonder why I am so drawn to you, my dear?"_

_Her hand was hot on my cheek. I looked up at her. She was tall with light brown hair and pale blue eyes in her current guise as a young woman. Her hand reached up and twined itself into a lock of my hair. She pulled it forward to gaze at it, stroking the red strands with her thumb until they fanned out across her index finger. "If you are mine, where did you get such hair?"_

_My eyes widened and I took a step backwards, pulling the lock out of her grasp. HERS? "What the fuck are you talking about?" I demanded, scared and angry._

_She shook her head, her eyes narrowing. "Such language," she said. "Such disrespect." She took a deep breath. "But then, you've already said that you don't know who I am." She smiled and took another step towards me, closing the gap I had made. "I am a goddess," she said. "And you were made for me."_

_I blinked. Then I opened myself to my flame and lit her on fire._

_She burned. Well, actually, the fire burned around her, but nothing happened to her. She stood in the middle of it and laughed and laughed. "Silly girl," she said. "I am a goddess of fire. Fire cannot hurt me the same way it cannot hurt you. Who do you think gave you your gifts?" She breathed in and the fire went out._

_I stood there for a moment, too shocked to do anything. "Gifts," I said. I blinked. "Gifts? You mean the thing I used to kill my parents because I had no control over them? Those '_gifts_'? How about the curse you put on me? The curse I used to kill my parents. The curse I used to ruin my life? The curse that has me on the run all the time trying to stay off the grid so they don't do studies on me? I'm a firestarter, lady. Do you know what that means? I'm a fucking weapon. I'm a monster."_

_She trilled a little laugh. "Not like that you aren't. You aren't even using a fraction of your strength. The things I could show you. The things you could do." She looked starry eyed for a moment. "You just have to let me show you."_

_I took three steps back. "No. Fuck you. I don't want any more of your god-damned '_gifts_' and I don't want anything more to do with you."_

_"Fool!" she spat at me. "The power you could have… The things you could do for me…"_

_"Lady," I spat back. "All I want is for my parents not to be dead. I don't want any fucking power, especially not when it's how I killed my parents. What the fuck is wrong with you?"_

_"You didn't kill your parents, you silly creature," she said, her eyes glittering. "A sacrifice had to be made for the power to be granted."_

_When her words sunk in, I launched myself at her, but she batted me away as if I were nothing more than a mosquito. I landed hard on the ground in front of the stone cottage/wood cottage/thatched roof cottage. Dazed, I watched it fitz through its changes over and over. On the second go-round, the lady twined her hand into the back of my hair and pulled me to my feet. _

_"You will bend to my will. You will be my conduit, my emissary, my priestess here on earth." She twisted her hand in my hair, pulling it tighter. _

_I screamed as loud and long as I could. Maybe I could wake myself up. I remembered from Sam's and my research that the dream root just gave you your own lucid dreams if you didn't take it with someone else's DNA. If I could wake myself up, then I could get away from this crazy-ass goddess._

_The lady laughed, disentangled her hand, and tossed me over her shoulder with ease. Singing, she strolled into the now wooden cottage as if she hadn't a care in the world. The song sounded familiar to me. Why did it sound so familiar? I couldn't make out the words, but the tune and the sound of the words…_

_She dropped me into a chair by a stone fireplace. Next to the fireplace was a bowl of water, a plate with a loaf of bread on it, and a bowl of what was either salt or sugar. I couldn't tell from how far away I was. She turned to stir the fire, singing the entire time as the fire flared._

_I stared at her in awe. "You were in the forest. You pulled me from the river."_

_She whirled around looking strangely pleased. "I did. I am the reason you still live. You should thank me."_

_I scoffed. "Sam and Dean are the reason I still live. They came after me. Dean used his body heat to warm me and they carried me to safety."_

_Her eyes snapped, "Indeed, and had I left you in the water, you would not have survived long enough to be warmed. If you were not lit by my fire, you would have died before even I got to you, you stupid, ungrateful child."_

_I flushed. "Fine," I ground out. "Thanks." She nodded, slightly mollified until I continued. "Of course, if you hadn't burned my parents to death in their beds to give me your wretched gifts, I wouldn't have been in the woods to begin with, so I guess I can blame you, too."_

_Her hand was under my throat, choking me. I gagged as she gritted out, "You are an entitled brat. A goddess blesses you and you scoff at her, reject her gifts. I have made a mistake in choosing you."_

_I couldn't breathe and I couldn't fight her. She was so much larger and stronger than I was. I struggled under her weight, her strength, kicking and choking until she finally eased up and let go of my throat. I gasped for air, bent over and coughing. "You will come around," she said, turning from me. "And when you do, your strength will be to my benefit."_

_I said nothing, too busy trying to catch my breath and sure I never wanted to anger her again. She turned back to me, a smile on her face. "In the meantime, I will teach you some tricks," she said. "Things to help you control your flame."_

_I refrained from telling her that I could've used that help months ago. She knelt down in front of me and placed her hand on my forehead. "Let me show you," she said. _

_That's when the cottage started shaking. Things started falling off the walls and then they melted away. I looked into the confused blue eyes of the goddess as I opened my own._

"Come on, Jessie." Dean said, shaking me. "Wake up. We need to get moving. Bobby's awake."

"Oh," I said, groggily. I pushed back the blanket and got out of bed. "Give me a few," I said. Dean nodded and went over to talk to Sam. I grabbed my clothes bag and headed into the bathroom.

If that had been a real goddess, and not just a dream goddess, then I hadn't killed my parents! That idea was such a relief to me, but I didn't know whether or not she'd been real or how to tell. Normally, I'd just ask Sam and Dean, but if they knew I'd taken the dream root after they'd gone to sleep the night before... I shuddered at the thought. The whole point of using Dean's cup and leaving it where he'd left it was so that he wouldn't know. I couldn't possibly tell him.

I felt so guilty. I hadn't really thought about what I'd been doing the night before. I'd just done it. I'd taken a drug without them knowing and while I hadn't ended up in the same dream they had been in, I had intended to. I wondered if this was a belting offense or if I was only at hairbrush. If I was at hairbrush, was it one or both of them? I had a feeling both, since Sam had taught me all about the root when we were researching, and I was pretty sure he never intended me to use that knowledge, especially after having been told no by Dean. They'd definitely take away the lessons again.

There was no way I could ask them about the goddess. There was no way I could tell them what I'd done. They'd just have to believe that I had overslept this morning and that I'd gone to sleep after they did the night before, just like they'd told me. I swallowed against the guilt, my stomach aching.

Dean banged on the door. "Move it, Jessie, or we're leaving without you."

"Ok, sorry!" I shouted back. I moved a little faster at brushing my teeth and putting my clothes on. A couple minutes later, we were on the way to the hospital.

8383838383838383838383838383 83838383

Sam had dropped me and Dean at the hospital and headed to find the college kid in his dorm. Dean and I talked to Bobby a bit, filled him in on what had happened while he was out and showed him the research we'd done. Bobby was pale and obviously weak. Dean asked him if what he'd seen in Bobby's dream was actually how Bobby had gotten into hunting, and Bobby had said that everyone had a story. Then he thanked Dean for saving him.

Sam came back and said that the college kid, Jeremy, wasn't in his dorm. Bobby explained that Jeremy's dad had taken a baseball bat to Jeremy's head, which caused Jeremy not to be able to dream, until he started taking the dream root in college. Bobby revealed that he had taken a beer from the kid and that's how Jeremy had gotten his DNA. Then Dean said that he'd done that too, clearly embarrassed by the mistake. Bobby said that we had to find him quick then, because until we did, neither he nor Dean could fall asleep.

For the next two days, Dean, Sam, and Bobby all searched for Jeremy. They even called in Bela to help out. For the most part, I stayed in the motel room with Bobby and kept myself out of trouble. I did a lot of schoolwork and was on my best behavior. Still eaten with guilt over sneaking the dream root and worried about the goddess, I didn't know what to do. My stomach hurt all the time and I couldn't keep much down. Everyone was too busy trying to find Jeremy to really notice that I was throwing away entire meals. Hell, half the time, Sam and Dean weren't even at the motel, it was just me and Bobby, and sometimes Bela, although she wasn't much help.

I did get to sleep though. I was worried the goddess would make another appearance, but she hadn't so far. I had no idea why she'd manifested in my lucid dream anyway.

Then one morning when I woke up, Sam and Dean were there. I flew into Dean's arms and when he put me down, I grabbed Sam around the waist. Bobby was eager to get the hell out of there so after Sam finished hugging me, Bobby recruited Sam to help him carry all of their research out to his truck. I was brushing my teeth when they got back in. As I came out of the bathroom, Dean was hanging up the phone and asked where Bela was.

The resulting conversation ended when Dean realized that Bela had stolen the Colt. Dean told us to pack our crap so we could go hunt her down. I spent the next several minutes trying to find all of my crap. Without Sam and Dean's insistence that I keep everything tidy, I'd managed to spread my stuff all over the room. They were already outside and putting their stuff in the car and I was only halfway through finding mine.

Ten minutes later, Sam was back in the room. "Need some help?" he asked. I had my head under the bed and was trying to reach one of my shirts that had somehow ended up under the exact middle of the bed. I couldn't quite reach it.

"Yeah," I said from under the mattress. Sam got down on his hands and knees and snagged the shirt easily.

As we both got up from the floor, Sam said, "You know, this is why we keep our stuff organized while we're staying someplace, so we can move fast."

I flushed, embarrassed. "I know. You've told me before."

"You keep your stuff picked up, you can move quickly. Dean's pretty annoyed right now."

I sighed. "I know. I can't find my History book." I stuffed this shirt into my clothes bag and zipped it shut.

Sam did a quick walk-through of the room and also couldn't find the History book. "Could it be in the car?"

I got an even deeper shade of red. "Yeah," I said.

Sam smiled, shook his head, and held his hand out to me. "Come on." I picked up my bags, took his hand, and followed him out the door.


	22. Chapter 22 - Hangman Jury

"Jessie, eat," Dean said, pointing at my grilled cheese. "I told you, two bites is not enough."

I glared at the sandwich. The crispy brown bread with sweet pickles toothpicked to the top seemed to mock me. "I'm full, Dean. I don't want to eat any more."

Dean looked at Sam for help, but Sam just shrugged. Dean looked back at me. I refused to meet his eyes. "Do I need to take you to a doctor?" he demanded, for the fifteen-gazillionth time.

"No," I said. "I'm just not hungry."

"Eat half the sandwich," Dean said.

I sighed and rested my head on my hand, my elbow propped up on the table. "I'm not…"

Dean slammed his hand down on the table. "I don't care. Eat half the grilled cheese. You didn't even eat breakfast. Choke it down."

I stared at him and my eyes filled with tears. I started sobbing. He threw his hands up in the air and rolled his eyes. "Oh and now I'm the monster," he said. "Because I want you to eat some goddamned food. Fine, we'll get a box."

Sam turned to me to say something, but I picked up half the grilled cheese and started eating it quickly, unhappy with Dean's reaction. I wanted him to be happy with me, but my stomach just hurt. I stopped a couple times to gulp down some water and went back to just swallowing the food, not even tasting it. When I was done, my stomach hurt even more.

"Thank you," Dean said. "Let's go." He stood up and dropped some money on the table. As we walked out to the car, his phone rang.

Three days ago, we'd been in Broward County, Florida looking into a missing man. It had been the weirdest hunt every because Sam had woken up on Tuesday morning and babbled something about having repeated the same Tuesday uncountable times and Dean dying. We'd gone to the diner for breakfast and then Sam had caught up to a Trickster after we'd left and threatened to stab him with a stake. Then suddenly, it had been Wednesday and Sam was almost in tears on seeing Dean. He wouldn't let Dean out of his sight for the entire day.

When that job was over, though, Sam had been on me to eat, all the time. When Dean defended me, he told Dean that he'd watched me eat hardly any food at any meal for every uncountable Tuesday. He then asked Dean to think back over the last week and remember what I'd been eating. That's when Dean started to get on me to eat. Now neither of them would let up.

The problem was that I kept dreaming about the woman in red, the self-proclaimed fire goddess. She hadn't gotten close to me again, but she was always in the background somewhere in my dreams, and I was scared. I couldn't tell Sam or Dean about her without telling them about the lucid dreaming and admitting to drinking the dream root against their wishes, not to mention the guilt I was feeling about that particular action and the fact that I couldn't warn them about the woman. If she was real, she was bad news, and it would probably be better for them to know sooner rather than later, right?

So every time I saw a woman dressed in red in public, I got scared and every time I saw her in my dreams, I woke up. I was exhausted, hungry, and guilty, and I couldn't eat or sleep, which meant I was spending a lot of time getting fussed at and crying. I was sucking at training and I was sucking at hunting. I was having a hard time grasping concepts and I kept falling asleep randomly, only to wake up startled a few minutes later.

I slid into the Impala and yanked out my Game Boy. Dean was leaning against the top of the car, firing questions into the phone. Finally, he clicked the phone shut and got in the car. "Got a lead on Bela," he said. "Let's go."

He started up the car as Sam asked, "Where?"

"Monument, Colorado," Dean said, squealing his tires as he pulled out of the parking lot.

"She still gonna be there when we get there?" I muttered.

"That's enough," Sam said. "Did you do your math questions?"

"No," I said sourly, clicking buttons on the Game Boy.

He took the Game Boy out of my hands and set it next to him on the seat. "Hey," I objected. I unbuckled my seatbelt and reached over the front seat to try to get it back.

"Jessie! Sit your ass down and put your seatbelt back on," Dean said gruffly. "Now, little girl."

Sam turned around in his seat and gave me a look. I huffed and dropped back into my seat, strapping the belt across my waist. "That's one," Sam said. "Get out your math book."

"Get out your math book," I muttered under my breath in falsetto and reached into my butterfly bag. Apparently, I had not muttered under my breath well enough because Sam's huge hand came back over the seat and grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him.

"That's two," Sam said. "I get to three, and we pull over." The threat was implicit.

I swallowed and nodded. He let go of my chin. I opened my math book and tried really hard to concentrate on the chapter, but the words swam before my eyes. I fought against sleep.

I woke to find my math book on the floor. Sam had wadded up his jacket and stuck it under my head. The seatbelt was still around my waist, although twisted a little now since I was lying down. One of the guys had put the spare blanket that I kept in the back seat over me. The guys were talking quietly in the front seat. I kept quiet and listened to them.

"Dude, I'm gonna have to take her to the doctor if she doesn't start eating more," Dean said. "She's been complaining about a sore stomach for two weeks now. I don't' know what else to do."

"She hasn't been sleeping well, either. She wakes up a lot. It's affecting her mood," Sam said.

"I know," Dean said. "She hasn't been herself at all. She's normally a sweet, pleasant, loving little girl that sometimes brats off something fierce, and now she spends all her time whining, crying, or acting out. Not that she didn't act out before, but it's different." In the back seat, I flushed, embarrassed and ashamed.

Sam grunted. "Something happened when we were helping out Bobby with that dream root thing. That's when it started. She stopped eating; she started having trouble sleeping…"

"You got any idea what it was?" Dean asked.

My heart jumped. Time to stop this line of conversation. I stretched and made a groaning noise, rolling on my hip to sit up. "I have to pee," I said.

"All right, next rest stop," Dean said.

I waited a couple seconds and was satisfied when they said nothing else. "How long was I asleep?" I asked.

"Couple hours. You feeling any better?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," I said. I looked down at the math book. "I didn't get any work done."

"I think you needed sleep more than you needed a math lesson," Dean said. He pulled off the road into a rest stop. I got out of the car and headed towards the bathroom, Dean and Sam trailing behind.

When I came out of my stall, a woman wearing a red shirt was standing in front of a sink washing her hands. I gasped and stumbled backwards into the stall, pushing the door hard into the stall wall with a crash. I had to throw out my hands to keep myself from falling.

"You ok, sweetie?" The woman turned around. I realized she had dark brown hair and brown eyes, and she looked nothing like the fire goddess in any of the incarnations I'd seen.

I leaned against the stalls and held my chest. "Yeah," I said. "Thanks."

"Ok. You be careful now." She turned and walked out of the bathroom whistling. I froze again, but it was just one of the more popular songs of late.

Once she was gone, I went to the sink and ran some cold water, splashing it on my face. Then I burst into tears. I couldn't help it. I was so tired, so scared. If that had been her, I'd be in her clutches right now. I wrapped my arms around my waist and just sobbed. I heard someone come into the bathroom and realized I was kneeling on the floor at the base of the sink. I couldn't remember how I got there.

"Hey, hey," someone said. "Are you ok? Are you lost?" I couldn't answer her. I couldn't do anything but cry. I heard her sneakers squeak as she walked away, and I was grateful to be alone again.

"Hey," I heard her voice outside the rest stop. "Does someone belong to the little red-headed girl in the bathroom? She looks like she's about ten or so?"

"Yeah, she's mine," I heard Dean answer. Then I heard footsteps coming into the bathroom. Through my tears, I looked up and reached out to him. He picked me up and held me close to him. "Ok, sweetheart. It's ok. What happened?" I couldn't answer him. "Is it still in here?" he asked softly. I shook my head against his neck, and he carried me out of the bathroom, gruffly thanking the lady who'd gone to get him.

"Ok, ok," Dean said. Sam came rushing over when he saw Dean carrying me. "A lady found her crying in front of the sinks in the bathroom. I don't know what happened." He sounded worried and frustrated, and my guilt spiked more.

When we got to the car, Sam opened the back door, and Dean put me in and crouched down next to me. "All right, sweetheart," Dean said quietly. "You're ok. Try to stop crying and tell me what happened."

Sam leaned against the top of the car and looked down at me while I stared at my hands. "Does this have anything to do with the leftover African dream root tea that went missing?"

I froze.

"Did you drink the leftover African dream root tea?" Sam asked in a hard voice.

I gave a tiny, barely perceptible nod.

Dean stood up. "Seriously? Seriously, Jessie? You drank the leftover dream root?"

I wouldn't look at him. I started to inch backwards into the car, but Dean grabbed my chin and made me look at him. "Spill it. Now."

I started crying instead. Dean shook his head and didn't let go of my chin. "No," he said. "I've had enough of tears over the last two weeks. I want an explanation."

"What did you dream, Jessie?" Sam prompted.

"There was a woman in red. She said she was a fire goddess and she's the one that killed my parents," I said, starting off softly but getting louder as I continued. "I don't know if she was real or not. She… hurt me, and now I don't know if she's after me or if I made it all up. I don't know!"

"Why didn't you tell us?" Dean asked. I didn't answer. "I swear to god, little girl, you better start answering me or I'll put you over my knee right here."

My eyes went wide. "Please, Dean," I whispered.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Dean repeated, punctuating each word.

"I'd be in trouble," I said, starting to cry again. "You'd be mad that I drank the dream root after you told me not to."

"You think I'd be less mad when I found out about it and that you hid something like this from me for two weeks?" Dean demanded. He crouched back down in front of me and made me look at him again. "That's lying, little girl. That's lying and putting yourself in danger."

"It's not lying!" I objected. "I never told a lie!" Dean stood up and turned away from me. I stared at his back, scared.

"You ever heard of lying by omission?" Sam asked, looking down at me from where he was leaning against the roof. I shook my head. "Huh," he said. "Would've expected that to come up between you and your parents." I flushed, unhappy with that implication. "It's when you lie by not saying anything and just letting people believe what they want to or what's been implied."

"You let us think you obeyed me and you've maintained that for weeks, in the meantime refusing to eat and unable to sleep, and with a possible goddess on your tail," Dean shouted. "I can't believe you. I thought you knew better than this."

"I'm sorry, Dean!" I cried. "I didn't mean it. I wasn't trying to upset you!"

Dean shook his head and ran his hand down his face, pacing back and forth in front of me. "I don't have time to deal with this right now. You're on restriction until I've had some time to cool off and think about this," Dean said. "But this is not the end of this discussion. I am extremely unhappy with you, little girl. You should be ashamed of yourself. Lying, keeping dangerous secrets. This is why you couldn't eat. This is why you couldn't sleep." He shook his head again and ran his hand through his hair. I watched him, appalled and guilty at how upset he was with me.

Sam crouched down in front of me. "I want you to draw me a picture of that goddess and write down all the details you remember about your dream and about her. Ok?" I nodded. Sam put his hand behind my neck and met my eyes. "You know that nothing is going to happen to you while you're with us. You're going to be ok."

"Once we know more about her, we'll be able to figure out who she is and make sure she can't find you. You're safe with us," Dean added. "Now, get buckled up. Time's wasting."

I slid over to sit behind Sam and put my seatbelt on. They got in and Dean started the car. As he put the car in reverse, he warned, "You better be on your best behavior until after we deal with Bela. I don't want to hear so much as a whine or any backtalk out of you. You want to control just how much of my bad side you're on. You got me?"

"Yes, Dean," I whispered, abashed. I pulled out my notebook and started drawing the goddess. Dean nodded, put the car in drive, and we were back on the road to Monument, Colorado.


	23. Chapter 23 - Devil's Got a New Disguise

I was an angel for the entire drive to Monument. When Sam or Dean said to do something, I did it, no argument, no back talk. I kept my head down and my nose clean. Unsurprisingly, after telling them about the dream root and the goddess, my guilt had eased, and I was able to eat without problems again, which was good because Dean was putting up with nothing from me.

After we were on the road for about ten hours, I couldn't stand the tension any longer. "Dean, I'm really sorry. I swear, I wasn't trying to upset you like this."

"Too soon, Jessie," Dean had warned. "I've got way too much on my mind to talk about this yet."

"It's been hours," I'd objected.

"Are you really arguing with me, little girl?" Dean asked, his voice dark.

"No," I whispered.

"Good," he'd said, and that had been the end of that.

The drive took twenty-four hours straight. Dean was anxious to get to Bela so he could get the Colt, and so he and Sam switched off on driving, the other one sleeping. I even got to sit in the front seat for a while when one of them wanted to sleep. I was antsy by the time Dean pulled into the hotel that Bela was staying in, but still on my best behavior.

"Stay in the car," Dean said shortly as he got out.

"Yes, Dean," I said. I pulled out my book, "The Witch of Blackbird Pond", and started reading.

I was in the car for about five minutes before someone was opening the back door. I looked up to see a man in a bullet-proof vest with "SHERIFF" over the left breast. He was wearing a khaki police uniform and pointing a gun at me. "Get your hands up and get out of the vehicle."

I stared at him in shock, afraid to move. "Come on, girl," he said, a little nervously. "Hands up and get out of the car."

I set my book on the seat and slowly raised my hands above my shoulders. I inched my way towards the man. He backed up slowly, keeping the same amount of distance between us. I climbed out of the car.

"Hands behind your head," the officer said. I went to put my hands behind my head, but then I saw Sam and Dean being led out of the hotel in chains. Ignoring the gun and everything else, I ran towards them.

"Dean!" I screamed. "Sam!"

"Freeze," shouted the officer. I ignored him, and someone grabbed me from behind, sweeping me off my feet. I started kicking, trying to get away.

"Jessie," Dean yelled. "Do what they say. Don't fight them. They're police." That was the last thing I heard before the officers shoved them into the back of a police car.

I stopped fighting and started crying. The officer set me down and pushed me to the ground. He tried to put cuffs on me, but my arms were too small and it was impossible. He ended up using a zip tie instead, patted me down, and shoved me into the back of a different police car.

Once in the car, I wiggled around until I could slide my arms under my legs so that they were in front of me. The zip tie wasn't overly tight, but I decided it was probably better not to get my hands out of it. Hell, I probably shouldn't have changed my position, but the other one was so uncomfortable.

I was watching the car that they had put Sam and Dean in, worried. Five officers were talking around the cars. One of them was dressed in a suit instead of khakis. He had on a jacket that said FBI on the back. He and one of the officers got into the car with Sam and Dean and drove off. Then two more of them got into the car with me. Neither said a word. They just started the car and drove.

The station wasn't too far away. When we got to the station, they left me in the car while they brought Sam and Dean into the station. Then they came back out to the car and brought me in. The station was tiny, even smaller than the one in Sioux Falls. Instead of taking me to the cells, though, they set me in a chair next to one of the desks. One of the officers actually handcuffed my ankle to the desk. Then he snipped the zip tie with some scissors and walked off.

I sat there for a couple of minutes. The FBI agent came over and made a call. When he got off the phone, he turned to me. "Who are you?" he asked. I glared at him and didn't say anything.

"You're obviously with the Winchesters, so who are you?" he said. When I didn't answer the second time, he reached out and picked the amulet up off my chest. "Well, Jessie Elizabeth Winchester, I'm Agent Hendrickson. You their sister? Cousin? When did you start traveling with them?"

I glared at him and continued to not say anything. "That's all right," he said. "You can sit there and say nothing. We'll get you processed and figure out where to place you as soon as we get Sam and Dean on their way to Supermax."

My heart jumped in my chest, but I said nothing.

"You know they're wanted for murder, grave desecration, kidnapping, bank robbery, and a dozen other charges, right? Your relatives are bad news," he said with obvious satisfaction at delivering that news.

"Fuck you," I said. "You don't know anything."

He raised his eyebrows. "Definitely related to them, even if I don't know how yet. You're probably following in their footsteps. You can just stay there until you decide to cooperate."

"Don't count on it, asshole," I said.

"What a mouth on you," he said, turned, and went back towards the cells. It was me and Nancy the secretary, according to her nameplate. She wasn't paying any attention to me. I picked up one of the pens from the desk and broke off the metal pen clip. I inserted the pen clip between the locking mechanism and the silver teeth on the handcuffs. Then I pushed the clip in and slid the locking arm out to free my leg. I was so glad that Dean had showed me that trick and had me practice multiple times during one of my lessons.

Once out of the cuffs, I got up and tried to sneak to the holding cell area. I got to the hallway that led to the cells when I felt a hand come down on my shoulder gently. "No," said the sheriff. "I don't think so. I don't know who you are to those boys, but you're not going in there."

He lightly held my upper arm and steered me into his office, closing the door behind us. Once in his office, he let me go. "Have a seat," he said and gestured to the chair next to his desk. I didn't move. He shrugged. "Suit yourself." He sat down behind his desk and started going through paperwork. I heard the sound of a helicopter.

I stood uncertainly for a minute or so. Of all of the officers so far, he'd been the nicest to me. He hadn't yelled, pushed, shoved, or been rough with me. He hadn't told me that Sam and Dean were hardened criminals or that I was becoming one. "Can you tell me what's going on?" I asked him, hopeful that he'd at least be nice enough to not yell at me.

"Well," he said, looking up from his paperwork. "Looks like the FBI are arresting those two boys in there and sending them to a super-maximum security prison in Nevada to await trial."

I felt the blood drain from my face, and I suddenly felt faint. The sheriff took one look at my face, got up, and led me over to the chair he'd offered me earlier. He sat me down in it. "Breathe," he said, and I did. After a minute, he asked quietly, "Who are they to you?"

"My only family," I whispered. "My dad and my uncle. I don't have anyone else."

The sheriff raised his eyebrows. "Those boys are pretty young to have a half-grown daughter." I shrugged, not answering. "You been traveling with them long?"

I shrugged again, not sure how much it was safe to tell them. Dean and Sam had both told me not to talk to the police if I ever got brought in. I thought even telling him that I was related may have been a bad idea. The sheriff nodded his head and went back to his paperwork.

I looked through the windows surrounding the sheriff's office to see another guy in a suit come in. He handed Agent Hendrickson a folder and walked past him towards the holding cell area. The sheriff looked at me. "You gonna stay here if I leave you here?"

"Yeah," I said.

"You promise me?" he asked.

"Ok," I said.

The sheriff nodded once, got up, and left the office, shutting the door behind him. He stopped at Nancy's desk, said something, and pointed at me. Nancy nodded. I sighed. The sheriff left. I sat next to his desk and watched Agent Hendrickson sign papers, hating every second of it.

I heard a scream from the holding cell area. Agent Hendrickson dropped his paperwork, and he and another officer ran towards the holding cell. I jerked open the door to the sheriff's office and ran. Nancy jumped to her feet and yelled "No," after me, but I didn't stop and she didn't follow me. I ran to the holding cell area, stopping at the doorway to see everyone holding guns on Sam and Dean. Tears sprang to my eyes. The new FBI agent was dead on the floor.

"No," I whispered. "No." Sam and Dean tried to argue that they hadn't done anything and they weren't at fault, that the agent had shot Dean, that the agent had been possessed. I wanted to run in, but I didn't want to startle anyone and make them shoot. Agent Hendrickson said to fire up the chopper, that they would take them out now. Dean agreed, scaring me. If it was better for them to be pulled out of here now, then how bad could the situation be? I wished I had any idea whatsoever of what was going on.

Dean looked up and saw me standing in the doorway. He looked relieved to see me and he gave me a little shake of his head, which I took to mean I shouldn't try to rescue them, at least not now. I nodded back.

The deputy tried to call the helicopter, but no one answered, so he went outside to check it out. I lingered at the doorway watching the officers watch Sam and Dean. The deputy called back in that everyone outside was dead.

An explosion shook the building. I gasped and ducked back in the hall, staying on the side of the door away from the office. I flattened myself against the wall. The officers came streaming through the hall, heading towards the main area. None of them saw me. When they'd all gone through, I ducked back into the holding cell area. Sam and Dean were sitting on the cot in their cell.

I clutched the bars. Dean was bleeding through his shirt. "Are you guys ok?" I asked, upset and scared. "Is there something I should do?"

"Jessie, thank god. I need a towel to stop the bleeding and the keys to the cells so we can get out of here," Dean said. "Can you do that for me?"

"I'll try," I said. I paused. "I had nothing to do with that explosion."

The lights flicked off. Sam and Dean stood up in unison. "That can't be good," Dean said. He turned to me. "Go. Get me the keys and a towel. Hurry."

I nodded. "Yes, Dean." I started towards the door at a run.

"Jessie, wait," he said. I stopped and turned towards him.

"Keep your fire locked up," he said. "This is no place for people to learn what you can do."

I nodded, turned, and ran out of the room, right into Agent Hendrickson.

"There you are. You're as slippery as those boys," he grabbed my arm. "I know the perfect place to keep you out of trouble."

He dragged me back into the holding cell area, shoving me into the cell next to Sam and Dean's. As he slid the door shut, he asked Sam and Dean, "What's the plan?"

"Fuck you," I screamed at him, pressure building at the back of my skull.

"Jessie," Sam said softly. "Calm down. Breathe." I looked at him. He had his jaw clenched. I closed my eyes and sat down on the bed in the cell. I breathed, fighting with my fire.

Agent Hendrickson didn't even waste a look on me. He started asking Sam and Dean what was going on outside. They tried to tell him that it wasn't their doing and that everyone was in danger, but Agent Hendrickson wouldn't believe them. He told them they should be more afraid of him than they should be of demons. He was such a fool.

Dean's shoulder was still bleeding pretty badly. I had my temper under enough control that I was able to open my eyes. The guys talked Nancy into bringing them a towel for Dean's shoulder. When she brought the towel, they managed to get the towel and her rosary from her.

They took the rosary and threw it into the toilet, using it to make holy water. Shortly after they did that, the sheriff came in and opened their cell door. Agent Hendrickson came in shortly thereafter and the two of them argued about whether we were leaving or not.

Agent Hendrickson shot the sheriff. I screamed. Sam and Dean wrestled Agent Hendrickson in front of the toilet and shoved his face into the holy water. Sam said the exorcism ritual and the demon fled Agent Hendrickson's body.

After that, Hendrickson asked Sam and Dean a bunch of questions, and then let us all out to help him defend the station. Immediately upon being let out, I ran to Dean and grabbed him around the waist. He put his hand on my back.

"Who the hell is she?" Hendrickson asked Dean.

"My daughter," Dean said.

"Should've guessed," Hendrickson said.

"We need to get Devil's Traps up at all the entry ways," Sam said. "And Dean needs his shoulder looked at."

I refused to let Dean's hand go. I attached myself to him while Nancy fixed up his shoulder. He told Hendrickson how to protect the station against the demons. Once Nancy said that there was salt in the store room, Dean looked at me. "Go," he said. "Show them what to do while she finishes patching me up."

Pride filled me. "Yes, Dean," I said, smiling. I helped them spread salt around all the doors and windows in thick lines, which would make it harder to break them. We'd just finished the last window when Dean yelled that they were coming. The station darkened from the demons but then they were gone. Dean passed out amulets to prevent people from being possessed. They were similar to mine but smaller, and of course they didn't have the inscription.

I re-attached myself to Dean's side, helping him with more of the preparations, loading bandoliers with shotgun shells of salt. He and Hendrickson had a long talk that I stayed out of.

Ruby arrived with a crash. Sam let her into the station and then she spent two minutes insulting Sam and Dean, including telling us that there was a new demon gunning for Sam's head, named Lilith. My anger grew with each word she said until my head was pounding.

Dean glanced down at me and then grabbed my arm. "You're glowing. Calm down, or I'm putting you in the corner right here, little girl. Do you want that?"

My heart jumped, and the potential embarrassment of that cooled me off almost immediately. "No, Dean," I whispered.

"This is what they do. Get yourself under control," he said. I nodded and concentrated on breathing.

After hearing that we didn't have the Colt anymore, Ruby said that she knew a spell that would get us all out alive, but that she would have to die. I couldn't help myself. "Sounds like a win/win to me," I said. Dean ducked his head and smiled, but Sam leveled a glare at me.

Ruby ignored me. She said that in order for the spell to work, she needed the heart of a virgin. She looked at me. "She'll do," she said, looking at me smugly. "Sounds like a win/win to me."

My anger flared again. Dean grabbed my arm and gave me a look. "No," Dean said to Ruby. "Not a chance, and no one else is a virgin."

She looked at Nancy. "She is."

Everyone argued about whether or not Nancy was going to sacrifice herself. Dean and Sam came up with another plan, and Ruby decided she wasn't going to be involved. She left in a huff.

Dean outlined the plan to all of us. He sent me off with Nancy and the deputy to put salt around the outside of the doors after the demons had all gotten into the building to prevent them from leaving.

The plan went off without a hitch. Eager to help, I obeyed Dean's instructions to the letter. After all of the demons were exorcised, I ran back into the building and helped clean up the mess, helping anyone I could.

Finally, Dean called to me that we were leaving. He and Sam finished talked to Hendrickson, who said that he was going to report them both as dead so that they would no longer be wanted. Dean took my hand and we left.


	24. Chapter 24 - For Whom the Bell Tolls

We were all tired. After grabbing some quick food, we ended up at the Wagon Trail Motel, not even leaving town. When we pulled into the parking lot, my head was pounding and I was itchy. I ran my hands through my hair, scratching my scalp.

"Dean, I really need to burn something," I said. "I'm itchy. It's been more than a day since the last time."

"Ok, let's get settled and I'll get you set up," he said. We carried all of our stuff into the room, and Sam claimed the first shower. Dean went outside and set up a brazier with charcoal. He called me out. I took a deep breath and pushed my flame into the charcoal, burning it quickly and hot. I went through two bags of charcoal.

"I've still got extra," I said. "Is there any more?"

Dean shook his head. "Nope, that's all we have. Did you burn enough that you can sleep?"

I considered. "I'm not itching and my head isn't hurting," I said. "I think I can make it if you let me burn something early tomorrow."

"Let's do that, then," Dean said, looking relieved and exhausted. He led me back into the room, leaving the brazier to cool in the night air. Sam was out of the shower and lying in one of the beds. He'd set up my roll-away while I'd been burning.

"You're next, Jessie," Dean said. "Go on, shower, teeth, PJs."

I went to get my bag. I slung it over my shoulder and hesitated. I turned to face Dean. "Am I… going to be in trouble tonight?"

Dean looked up from his own bag. "No. I think we've all been through enough today. You and I can have our talk tomorrow. Now go get ready for bed."

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8

The next morning, I woke up before either of them, my fire throbbing in my temples. I hadn't let off enough the night before. I felt like ants were crawling all over my body. I scratched and scratched and scratched, but it didn't help. The throbbing was going from just pressure to pain. I had to let it out.

I looked at the lumps in the two beds. Through a haze of pain, I decided to wake up Sam because Dean had been hurt the day before. I slid out of bed. Pain flared as I crept as softly to Sam's bedside. I put my hand on his shoulder. "Sam," I whispered.

He rolled over "What, Jessie?" he asked in a quiet voice.

"I need to…" I swallowed against a throb of pain, "burn something."

He sat up. "How bad is it?"

"My head hurts, everything itches!" A whine crept into my voice.

"Ok," he said quietly. "Put on your shoes and come on. We'll go get you something."

"I don't know how much longer…" I whispered.

"Go, go," he said, slipping out of bed. I got my shoes and my coat and he led me out of the room.

I closed my eyes against the pain. After stopping at the car for a fire extinguisher, he led me across the street to the gas station there. "Stay out here. I'm going to go inside and see if they have charcoal," he said, handing me the fire extinguisher. I closed my eyes and leaned against the wall, clutching the extinguisher to me like it was my lifeline. I tried to imagine the furnace locked and secured, but in my mind's eye, I could see it was bulging. I wanted Sam to hurry. If I lost it here, it would be very, very bad.

He came back out a few minutes later with three bags of charcoal. "Not enough," I said, my eyes slitted against the gas station lights.

"That's ok," he said. "Come on."

I thought he was going back across the road, but instead he headed into the woods behind the gas station. I followed him, stumbling because I couldn't open my eyes very much, my head was hurting so bad. I was glowing brighter than I ever had.

We were about five feet past the tree line when the first wave of heat flowed over me. I gasped. "Sam!" I cried, doubling over in pain.

"Can you let it out a little at a time?" he asked.

I shook my head. I knew that as soon as I opened the furnace, I was going to lose control. Whatever I was aiming at was going to go up in a big, big way.

"Then you just need to make it a little further. Come on, Jessie. You can do this."

I followed him about fifty feet further, stopping every few steps as another roll of heat flowed over me, until we reached a clearing. There was a small fire circle in the clearing and three old, ratty lawn chairs. Cigarette butts and beer cans littered the ground. Sam dropped the charcoal into the circle as I fell to my knees, another wave of heat flowing over me. When it faded, I was shaking and the glow that had surrounded me brightened.

Sam took the fire extinguisher from me and backed up. "Ok, aim at the charcoal."

"Get back, Sam. Please, get back," I gasped. He backed up until he reached the tree line and I nodded.

I felt another heat wave rise up, and I aimed at the charcoal in the fire circle and opened the furnace.

The fire was never visible until it hit its target, and this time was no exception, but the force behind the fire was frightening. The charcoal bags exploded, charcoal flying everywhere, some burning up before they even hit the ground again. There wasn't enough. The dirt around the charcoal caught fire, the grass, the lawn chairs. I couldn't control it. I tried to stem the tide but I wasn't having much luck. The fire raced out from the fire circle, eating grass, leaves, cigarette butts, everything in its path.

"Get control of it!" Sam shouted.

I took a deep breath and pulled it back into me. It was less, but it was still too much. I aimed at the fire circle again, but this time, I aimed at the stones surrounding the circle and pushed into them. They turned red. I pushed and pushed, until all the fire was out of me and in the stones. As I watched, the stones disintegrated into powder. Depleted, I closed the furnace.

Sam ran to me and grabbed me up into his arms. "You ok, honey?" he asked. I nodded against his shoulder and wrapped my arms around his neck. He carried me over to where the fire circle used to be. "Quicklime," he said. I felt him shake his head. "That's… impressive."

"Thanks," I mumbled.

"Can you walk back to the motel?" he asked.

"Yeah, but I'm really tired," I said. He put me down, picked up the fire extinguisher, and took my hand.

Dean was still asleep when we got back to the room. I suspected he'd taken some pain killers before we went to bed. He never slept this soundly. Sam helped me take off my shoes and get back into bed. He tucked me in. "You did a great job today," he said. "You did really well with the police station, with the demon attacks, and now with your fire. I'm proud of you."

"Thanks, Sam," I said, pleasure at his words flowing through me.

"Get some rest," he said. He kissed my cheek and pulled my blankets up to my chin. I was asleep almost before he walked away from the bed.

When I woke up the next morning, both of them were dressed and sitting at the table. Sam was talking quietly to Dean. I couldn't hear what he was saying. I was still tired and my body hurt. I considered going back to sleep, but instead I rolled out of the bed and went into the bathroom.

When I came out, I went over to the table and sat down. "Are you feeling any better?" I asked Dean. He shrugged.

"It's going to take a while to heal," he said. "I'll be ok, though. I heard you had an adventure last night. Are you ok?"

I nodded. "I burned stones to dust," I said.

"Quicklime," Sam said.

Dean nodded thoughtfully. "You think you could do that again?" he asked.

I shrugged. "Maybe. I was overloaded last night, though." I told them about the itching, the pounding headache, and the heat waves, which were new.

"I want you to call Bree later and talk to her about this," Dean said.

"You think she'll know something? She's a telekinetic. She might not know that much about fire," Sam said.

"She's the only expert we have," Dean said. "We have to start somewhere."

"I'll call her," I said. "Can I have some breakfast?"

Sam dug a sandwich out of the fast food bag on the table and handed it to me. I unwrapped it and ate.

When I was done, Dean said, "Jessie, you did a real good job yesterday. You did everything we said to do, and you stayed out the way when you needed to. You made all the right decisions. I'm proud of you, sweetheart." I beamed.

"Unfortunately," he continued, "we still have something else to deal with."

"But I did really good yesterday," I objected. "You just said so."

"That doesn't undo the fact that you disobeyed me by taking dream root after I told you not to and that you then didn't tell us about the dream you had," Dean said in a hard voice.

"The goddess might not even be real," I objected. "I didn't dream about her last night!"

Dean raised his eyebrows at me. "Jessie, I don't want to hear excuses," he said, tilting his head to the side, his words clipped. "Are you trying to tell me that you don't think you did anything wrong?"

I took a deep breath, braced myself, and nodded, my stomach starting to hurt again. He shook his head. "I don't believe you. If you didn't think you'd done anything wrong, and if you didn't think that goddess might be real, you wouldn't have spent two weeks refusing to eat because of guilt and fear. Don't feed me a line of crap!" he snapped, his temper flaring. Then he groaned as he jerked his shoulder.

I flushed guiltily and looked away. "I'm sorry, Dean."

"When the hell are you going to learn to listen to us?" Dean asked angrily. "We tell you no for a reason, not just because we don't want you to have fun."

My temper flared. I snapped my head up and glared at him. "Have fun? Have fun? I was worried about you! I didn't want to lose you! I just wanted to go into Bobby's dream and make sure you were ok. I wasn't trying to have a good time screwing around with dream root!"

"Go into Bobby's dream?" Dean asked, leaning forward and raising his brows again. "Is that why you drank the dream root? Did you just not add his hair to it?"

Oh fuck. I dropped my eyes again. "Yeah," I said.

"So, what you wanted to do was follow us into bad situation when I told you to stay put? The only reason it didn't work was because you forgot to add an ingredient?" His voice was deadly calm.

"Yeah," I whispered. I wanted to crawl under the table and disappear. His eyebrows were knitted and his head slightly tilted. I knew that look. I started crying. "I just wanted to make sure you were ok. I was scared!"

Dean stood up, took the half step so that he was right in front of me, and crouched down. He took my chin in his hand and made me look at him. "You actually think that's a good reason?" he asked. "Did you think that when you got caught, because there was no chance that you wouldn't get caught, little girl, that I'd say 'oh, you were scared, so it's ok that you disobeyed me'?"

"No," I whispered.

"What did you think? Did you think about anything past what you wanted to do?" Dean growled.

"I thought…" I stuttered. "I thought… I just wanted to make sure you were ok," I finished weakly. I was in so much trouble. I pulled my chin away from him and pulled my legs up into the chair with me. Dean sat back down in his chair.

"We haven't even started talking about the lying yet," Dean said. I buried my head in my knees. "Do you still deny that you lied to us by keeping your dream from us?" I shook my head, still pressed into my knees. "Hallelujah, the girl shows some sense," Dean exclaimed.

Sam slid his chair back. "Come here, Jessie."

I didn't move for a second, wondering if there was some way I could get out of this, but I knew there wasn't, and I knew I deserved it. That's why I'd been so guilty over the last two weeks, and now that Sam and Dean knew about the goddess, I didn't have to be afraid any more.

I got up and dragged my feet over to Sam. He pulled down my pajama bottoms and tilted me over his knee. He brought his hand down over and over on my panty-clad bottom. "The problem is, young lady, that you don't learn from your mistakes. You fly off the handle and react without thinking, landing you in hot water. But you don't do anything to change it. You just jump right back in with both feet." He stopped spanking. "Go get me your hairbrush."

I didn't bother to argue. I got to my feet, stepped out of my pajama bottoms, and dug the hairbrush out of my bag. I brought it back to him and handed it to him. He lowered me back over his lap and slipped my panties down. Startled, I threw my hand back to cover my bottom.

"Move your hand, Jessie," he said, his voice barely patient.

"Sam, please?" I begged.

"You don't think you deserve this?" Sam asked. "You disobeyed us; you tried to follow is on a hunt when we told you not to; and then you didn't tell us about something we should've known about our little girl so you wouldn't get in trouble for it? Exactly how didn't you earn this?"

I stopped blocking and covered my face instead, grabbing his leg with my other hand. "I didn't meant to," I said. Sam sighed and started spanking with the hairbrush. That fucker was so much worse than his hand. Each swat both stung and thudded. I cried out each time it fell, and he didn't stop. I kicked and thrashed, but he brought it down over and over.

"Here's the important part," Sam said as he spanked. "You're doing this to yourself. You know the rules, but you choose to disobey them. So, how are you going to avoid this in the future? What changes are you going to make in your behavior so that you don't end up over my knee again? Well?"

I could barely think, my bottom was so sore. "I don't know," I wailed. "I don't know! I can't think!" Sam stopped spanking and rubbed my back. I thought furiously.

"I'll… I'll start thinking before I act," I said. "I'll stop choosing what I want over what you tell me to do, even when it's because I'm worried about you. I'll tell you when something weird happens to me, even if I found out in a way that will get me in trouble."

"Good," Sam said. "Now, we'd be done now if you hadn't lied to me."

"No, Sam! Please!" I said and then shrieked as the hairbrush came down on my butt in a quick, hard flurry of sharp, stinging swats that ended with several where the bottom of my butt met my thighs. The pain was horrible and I shrieked again. Then my panties were back up and Sam had me up in his lap, cuddling me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and buried my face in his chest.

"I'm sorry," I said after a couple of minutes.

"Don't get too comfortable," Dean said. I unwound myself to look at him. "Come here."

I climbed out of Sam's lap hesitantly and walked over to Dean. He grabbed my chin and looked into my eyes. "The only reason he did that and I didn't is because my arm is in such bad shape, but you and I are in no way square. What did I tell you will happen when you don't stay put when I tell you to stay put?"

"You'll take off your belt?" I asked, my heart sinking.

"That's right, and since I'm not in any shape to do that today, and now neither are you, we're going to revisit this tomorrow morning."

"Dean!" I gasped as the realization of what that meant hit me.

"Don't 'Dean' me, little girl. You walked yourself right into this. Every choice you made led up to it. You did it to yourself. You know the rules." He held my chin there when I tried to look away. "Tell me I'm wrong," he said.

I hung my head. He nodded. "That's what I thought."

"I'm sorry, Dean. I really am," I said.

"I know you are, sweetheart. I'm sure you were sorry the second after you did it. This is to make you think twice before you do it again. Now go get dressed and bring me the notebook with the picture of your goddess and the description of your dream."

"Yes, Dean," I said.

I was in the bathroom brushing my teeth when someone knocked on the door. I heard Ruby's voice and the television clicked on. When I came out, the three of them were watching a newscast about the Sheriff's Office exploding and claiming the life of everyone inside. I wanted to cry but I didn't want to give Ruby the satisfaction of seeing me. When Sam clicked the TV off, Ruby yelled at them for not going with her plan, gave us all hex bags to prevent Lilith from finding us, and then left in a huff. Sam and Dean were devastated.

I hated her. "Why don't you guys put down salt in motel rooms again?" I muttered.

"Jessie…" Sam warned and lay back down on his bed. I went to get my notebook.


	25. Chapter 25 - Round and Round

"We can't stay here if Lilith's in the area," Dean said an hour or so later. "We need to get farther away, so pack your stuff."

I looked up from my math assignment. "Yeah, cause she won't be able to send her demons looking everywhere that's a day's drive from here," I said sarcastically. I may have deserved it, but I didn't like the fact that I was still on restriction. I was sitting at the table with my back to the room so I couldn't watch "My Cousin Vinny", which is what Sam had on while he was doing research about the goddess online, using my dream write up.

"Did anyone ask you, young lady?" Sam asked. "Get your stuff packed."

"We can't leave," I tried. "Dean can't drive with his shoulder hurt like that."

"Hey, I can always drive my baby," Dean said. "Why do you want to stay here so bad?"

"Maybe it's the décor," I said, getting up. "I just love sleeping in a 1950's boy's bedroom."

Sam clicked off the television and started shoving his stuff into his bags. I followed suit and in ten minutes, we were tossing our stuff into the car and getting on the road.

Great. I just loved being on the road with a sore butt. Dean may love his Impala, but it didn't have the smoothest ride in the world for someone in my condition. Plus, I was seriously dreading tomorrow morning. I dug into my butterfly bag and yanked out "The Witch of Blackbird Pond".

"Jessie," Sam said, with a warning note in his voice.

"Fine," I said. I dropped the book next to me on the seat and dug out my math book. Sam went back to reading the information he'd downloaded on his laptop. I flipped the pages in my math book for a couple minutes and then picked up my novel again. I pulled my feet up onto the seat and rested my math book on it. I opened my novel and held it inside my math book so that it would look like I was doing my assignment. I gave one last glance at Sam and started reading.

I'm not sure how much time passed, but I got really involved in the book and wasn't paying any attention to Sam or Dean. I vaguely heard them talking, but since I didn't hear my name, I didn't really listen.

Eventually, Sam reached back and pulled the novel out of the math book. "Hey!" I objected. I'd been right in the middle of a really good part. "I was reading…" I trailed off when I saw his face.

"Give me the rest of your books," Sam said.

"Oh, come on, Sam," I said.

"Now," Sam said, snapping his fingers at me. "You've lost your pleasure-reading privileges."

Angry, I unbuckled my seat belt and picked up my butterfly bag. I dropped it over the seat between the two of them. "There's the rest of my fucking books," I snapped. "Hope you like sixth-grade science as much as I do."

I dropped back into my seat and refastened my seat belt. No one said anything for a minute, and then Dean pulled off the highway.

"No, Dean, no. I'm sorry. I take it back," I said, panicked. I leaned forward and reached for my bag, but Sam grabbed my arm.

"Too little, too late," he said. He gave me a look, his jaw clenched tight. I was just glad it wasn't twitching yet. When he let me go, I withdrew my hand. Sam opened my butterfly bag and dug out my novels and my English Lit book while Dean stopped the car and turned around, his eyebrows raised.

"What is your problem?" Dean asked.

I flushed. "I just want to be left alone," I said. "You guys are all over me."

"You think you're doing a good job letting us know that, with that attitude? You're practically begging us for attention."

"No, Dean," I said, looking away.

"You trying to get me to spank you now so you don't have to wait? Because if I have to spank you now, you're still getting the belt tomorrow morning," Dean growled at me. "I can't do it now so you're just going to have to wait."

"That's not fair!" I whined.

"Yeah?" Dean asked. "Was it fair that you made us wait two weeks before you told us what was wrong?"

"No," I whispered.

"Lose the attitude," Dean said. "Sam?"

"One more smart ass comment, snarky remark, or outright disobedience, and you're not getting your novels back for two weeks after your restriction ends," Sam said. "You hear me, young lady?"

"Yes, Sam," I said.

"Now get your math assignment done," Sam said. Dean turned back around and got us back on the highway.

I behaved myself for the rest of the day. After about an hour of good Jessie, Sam and Dean relaxed and actually did start to leave me alone. I finished my math assignment, my science assignment, and my social studies assignment. I was so far ahead of kids who actually had to be in school that it wasn't funny, and unfortunately, it was mostly due to how much trouble I continuously seemed to find myself in.

The only problem was that I was bored as hell, so I pulled out one of my notebooks and started writing a story to entertain myself. I was deep into it by the time we pulled into a new motel. This one had an empty pool in front of it, and next to it was a huge lot that was in the process of being cleared. That seemed like a good place to go to burn if we ran out of charcoal. We'd driven through a small town to get here. I had no idea where we were, though.

God, I was tired. Dean dropped us off with our bags and headed out to get supplies. I followed Sam into the office to get a room, and then to the room. "Get ready for bed," Sam said.

"I need to burn something," I said.

"Yeah, and right now you need to get ready for bed," Sam said.

"You don't have to be mean about it," I grumbled under my breath. I picked up my clothes bag and headed into the bathroom to shower and put on my PJs. The office had delivered the roll-away bed while I was in the shower. I sat down on the bed and looked at Sam, who had set up his computer on the room's tiny desk and was working on getting it connected to the motel's free Wi-Fi.

"Sam, I'm sorry I was so horrible to you today," I said. He looked up from the computer. "You didn't deserve it and I shouldn't have done it. I'm sorry."

Sam sighed and got up from his computer, coming over to sit next to me and put his arm around me. "Honey, you really need to work on your temper and mood. Just because you're in a bad mood doesn't mean you should take it out on everyone around you."

"I know," I said. "I'm sorry. I'll try harder." I looked up at him. "Do you love me again?"

"I never stopped," Sam said, hugging me to him. "A grumpy mood couldn't make me stop loving you any more than you fire abilities could or you running off and putting yourself in danger. Sometimes I don't like what you do, but I always love you."

I hugged him. "Thanks, Sam," I said. I heard the Impala drive up outside. Dean came in ecstatic, having found a pool hall and a liquor store in town. He'd brought back food, liquor, and charcoal.

"Let's get this burned up so Sammy and I can go make some money," he said.

"Dean, I'm tired. I don't want to go out tonight," Sam objected.

"Come on, Sammy. It'll be fun. You're gonna have to do all the work with my ripped up shoulder, though," Dean said with his most beguiling smile. Sam sighed and went to change his clothes.

"You ready to burn this up?" Dean asked me, gesturing at the charcoal bags. He'd brought six of them. I nodded. He took me outside and I went through five of them before I'd drained enough excess that I thought I could keep it contained.

Dean brought me back into the motel and tucked me into bed. "Love you, sweetheart," he said and smiled at me. He kissed my forehead and pulled my blankets up to my chin. "You gonna be ok if we go out for a while?"

I nodded. "I'll stay here and sleep," I said.

"Good girl," he said. Then he and Sam left.

I got up and found the rock salt that he'd bought at the store. I salted the window and the door to keep Ruby from getting in, and then I went back to bed.

The next morning, they were still sound asleep when I woke up. I knew the drill. When we weren't hunting, sometimes they went out until late at night. I didn't worry about it overly much. I made myself breakfast from the food they'd brought back and dug out a set of cards to play solitaire. I was restricted from a lot of things, but I knew that goofing around with cards wasn't one of them. When I got bored with that, I started writing more of the story I'd started the day before.

I was only aware someone was up because I heard the bathroom door close. I turned around to see Sam sitting on the end of his bed. "You want some water?" I asked. He nodded, so I brought him a glass of tap water. "Need anything else?"

"Yeah," he said. "Next time Dean wants to go out and hustle pool in the middle of the night, remind me I don't want to go." I sat down next to him on the bed and wrapped my arm around his back as far as it would go.

"Come on, Sammy, that was great," Dean said, coming out of the bathroom fully dressed with a huge smile on his face. "You got the money, I got the girl. You got drunk… I got the girl." He winked.

I rolled my eyes. "Well, at least one of you had a good time."

"Yeah," Sam said. He dragged himself up, unfolding his large frame as if it hurt him, and went into the bathroom.

Dean looked at me and his face sobered. "You wanna do this sooner or later?"

I shrugged, really not able to answer that. He crooked his finger at me. "Come here, drop your pajama pants, and lie over the edge of the bed."

"Dean," I said, my face going white. "You don't have to."

"I do have to, Jessie. Do I need to remind you what we talked about yesterday morning? I get it, I do. You want to help. You love us. You worry about us. The problem is, little girl, that your first priority when it comes to hunting should be obeying us. We can't trust you if you don't obey us. We need to know that when we tell you something, you're going to do it. We've talked about this before, and I'm tired of it. We're going to repeat this little song and dance until you do get it. Until obedience is ingrained in you or at least until you think before you do the complete opposite."

He walked over to me and looked in my eyes. "I want my belt to be the first thing you think of when you even consider following us into a hunt without our permission. I want my belt to be the first thing on your mind when we tell you to stay and you think about going. Do you get me now?"

I swallowed hard. "Yes, Dean."

"Lie down over the end of the bed," Dean said, punctuating each word, his voice dark with displeasure.

I fought back tears as I walked over to the bed. I yanked my pajama pants to my knees and I lay down with my butt on the edge of the bed. I heard Dean shuffling behind me, his belt buckle clanking as he unbuckled it, and then the sweep of leather against jeans as he slid it off.

I put my arms over my head and braced myself, already crying. Dean brought the leather down onto my panty-covered bottom, no warm up, no nothing. I shrieked as pain seared my butt. He didn't even pause. He swung again and again. I tried to hold still, but I couldn't. I slid myself forward on the bed, bringing my legs up, trying to block with my feet.

Dean stopped and waited. "Feet on the floor," he said. "We're not even half done." I didn't move. "Little girl, I can wait all day and the longer you make me wait the worse it's going to be. Put your feet on the floor."

I slid back down a little and put my feet on the floor. I braced myself against the mattress. Dean brought the belt down again. I tried to ignore the slaps of leather. I tried to breathe to control the pain, but it didn't work. I couldn't count, I couldn't keep track. I sobbed and sobbed into the blankets on the bed.

And then I realized he'd stopped and was rubbing my back. I climbed onto the bed on my knees and flung myself into his arms, sobbing against his neck. "I'm sorry, Dean," I said.

"Are you going to remember next time?" he asked me, his arms wrapping around my waist.

"Yes, Dean," I said. I was swaying a bit, not able to keep good balance on my knees.

"Good girl," he said. He held me to him. "Sweetheart, I love you. I just want you to be safe. Please help me keep you safe."

"I will. I'm sorry," I said, shaking against him. He moved me so I was sitting on his lap. He stroked my hair while I cried. After a while, I heard Sam come out of the bathroom and open his laptop. I asked Dean, "Am I forgiven now?"

"Yes, sweetheart. You're always forgiven."

"Am I still on restriction?" I asked, my voice small.

"Sam?" Dean called. "How long for her restriction?"

"At least a week and no hunting lessons," Sam said. I couldn't see him behind Dean. I looked up at Dean. He raised his eyebrows at me. I nodded.

Dean helped me out of his lap and shooed me into the bathroom. "Go wash your face," he said. Then he clapped his hands together and rubbed them together briskly. "Now, what do we have for breakfast?"


	26. Chapter 26 - A Lot to Learn

"It's February 28th, this is a leap year, and we're only eight hours away. Let's go hunt the Morton House. It'll be awesome." Dean said as we drove away from the motel. We'd stayed there a couple of weeks while he healed.

"Dean, everyone who's in that house overnight at midnight on February 29th dies," Sam said. "You really think this is a good idea?" He looked dubious.

"Dude, when are we gonna get another chance? It'll be awesome. It's our Grand Canyon! We have to go."

"What's Morton House?" I asked from the back seat.

"Morton House is the most haunted place in America," Dean said. "Anyone who stays there overnight goes missing. Sam did a bunch of research on it a year or two ago."

"Do you know why they go missing?" I asked.

"Nope, that's part of what we'll find out, if Sam will just _agree to go_," Dean said, looking askance at Sam.

"Fine, Dean. If that's what you want to do," Sam said, rolling his eyes.

"Can I help?" I asked.

"No," Dean said. "No way, no how. You're staying in the Impala for this one." I didn't bother to argue, not yet.

They spent the entire ride talking about it, planning what they would need for the hunt. It was dark when we got there. We drove past the place with Sam and Dean shining flashlights towards it, and it looked creepy and ramshackle. I could see why kids would want to go stay in it, and why it was considered the most haunted place in America. Even if it wasn't actually haunted, it sure looked like it was.

They pulled into an empty lot down the road a little ways from the house. The plan was the gather all of the equipment and get it packed up. Then we'd go back and park next to the house for the hunt, except I was supposed to stay in the car. I had had hours to think about it, and I thought I had a convincing argument to at least let me see the place before the hunt.

"You said that you have to be in the house at midnight to get trapped, right?" I asked as Dean turned the car off.

"I don't think I like where this is going…" Dean said, turning around in his seat to look at me.

I slipped my seatbelt off. "Can I just come in with you and see the house? I'll leave as soon as anything starts happening and definitely before midnight. Please, Dean?"

Dean looked at Sam. "What do you think?"

"I don't think it's a good idea," Sam said. "We don't know exactly what we're walking into, and she can always go in tomorrow after we get rid of whatever's haunting it."

Dean raised his eyebrows and looked at me. "There you have it. We both agree." he said. "The answer's no." They both got out of the car and went to the trunk. I climbed out, too, and followed them.

"Come on, Dean. It won't be haunted tomorrow. It won't _feel_ the same. Please? I swear, I'll leave the second you tell me to. I promise! This is this giant deal for you and I want to know why! Please?"

Dean looked at Sam again. Sam shrugged. "It's your call, dude," he said. "I already told you what I think." Dean looked back at me.

I looked at him pleadingly. He threw his hands up. "Fine, but you leave when I tell you to." He pointed at me. "I'm not fooling around."

I nodded. "Yes, Dean," I said. I smiled and flung myself at him, hugging him around the waist.

He rolled his eyes and handed me a bag. "At least make yourself useful," he said. But then he ruffled my hair, and I saw him smile out of the corner of my eye when he didn't know I was looking. I slung the bag over my shoulder and waited happily.

Once they'd finished their prep and driven back to the house, we went in the unlocked back door. As soon as we walked in, Dean heard some people in one of the rooms. "God damn it," he said quietly. "We've got to get them out of here. Jessie, stay back."

I hung back in the hallway while the two of them burst into the room claiming to be police officers and demanded to see their ID. I could see in the room from where I was standing in the hall. They went back and forth for a minute. Then one of the people in the room claimed to know Sam and Dean.

Sam said "Holy Fuck!" He told Dean that one of them had been in west Texas and had almost gotten them killed when they were hunting a Tulpa.

Dean said in an annoyed tone, "Fuck me."

Dean tried to tell them that they had to leave, but the new guy, Ed, said that they'd gotten there first. Dean shoved Ed up against a wall and asked where his partner was. Ed cracked like an egg under Dean's killer stare. I rolled my eyes. Wimp. They came out of the room.

"Who's the kid?" Ed asked.

"That's Jessie," Dean said. "Never mind her. Let's get you and your team out of here."

Ed led us downstairs to the main hall. They had a quick discussion about why the team was there (they were making a reality TV pilot) and whether or not anyone had stayed in the house overnight on leap day before (yes, and they'd died). Sam showed them the missing persons he'd scrounged up when he'd first researched Morton House. Sam told Ed that starting at midnight, his friends were going to die.

"Jessie," Dean started, but was interrupted by the rest of the team coming down the stairs screaming about having seen a ghost. The other guy, apparently his name was Harry, recognized Sam and Dean too, asking if they were the assholes from Texas. Dean insisted that the team get across the street right now, but they all ignored him. They hooked up their video recorders to watch the tape they'd made. I got closer so I could see. It was a ghost. He fitzed in, talked, got shot by his assailant, and disappeared. The team was gaga over it, but Sam and Dean slipped off to the side. I trailed after them so I could hear them as they discussed the fact that it was a death echo and that it couldn't be the thing causing the disappearances.

Dean tried to gather everyone up to get out again, but the team argued with them. Then the team realized that one of their members, Corbett, was missing. Dean kept arguing with them to get out, but they wouldn't listen, insisting on finding Corbett. Someone upstairs screamed and they all ran up to find him.

"Shit!" Sam said, and he and Dean ran up the stairs to get them. I stayed by the door.

A few minutes later, they were hustling the team back down the stairs. Dean tried to open the front door to show them out, but couldn't. The team went back to their equipment while Dean tried to jimmy the door. Sam saw me standing off to the side. His eyes widened and he said, "Jessie, what the hell are you still doing here?"

"I was waiting for you to tell me to go," I said.

"It's after midnight!" Sam said angrily while Dean fought with the door "You're already supposed to be gone."

"It is?" I asked, alarmed. Tears sprang to my eyes as the ramifications hit me. "Oh no! Oh, I didn't know Sam! No one told me! I was going to go when you got the team out!"

"Sam!" Dean yelled, struggling with the door. Sam gave me a look and started helping Dean. I sat down on the bottom step of the stairs and watched, dread filling me. I hadn't stayed on purpose. I hoped I wasn't in trouble. I hoped I was going to make it out alive.

After having no success in getting the door open or breaking the glass, they stopped wrestling with the door.

"It's 12:04, Dean," Sam said. "You good? You happy?"

"Yeah, I am happy," Dean growled.

"Jessie didn't make it out of here, and we're locked in," Sam continued. "'Let's go hunt the Morton House,' you said, 'it's our Grand Canyon.'"

"Sam, I don't wanna hear this," Dean said.

"You got two months left. Instead the three of us are gonna die tonight," Sam said. He picked up a chair. I covered my head as he flung it into the door and the chair shattered. The team came running over, and Sam and Dean told them that we were locked in the house. There was no way out.

The camera started fritzing and another echo appeared, different than the other one according to Harry. Dean tried to get its attention, to break its loop, but he wasn't able to. Sam explained that usually you have to have a connection with the person to break them out of a ghost echo loop. The ghost ended up getting hit by an unseen train.

When that excitement was over, Dean dragged all of us room from room to hunt for clues as to what was going on. I followed along without being told to, knowing that the safest place was with the two of them. I'd've been holding Dean's hand the entire time if it wouldn't have prevented him from getting the job done. We eventually reached a room filled with animal heads, C-rations, and paperwork, which Dean said looked like a den. I helped the guys go through the paperwork, books, and boxes in the room. They figured out the guy was a janitor at the local hospital, an amateur taxidermist, and worried about a nuclear bomb.

Dean was holding his cool pretty well, although the constant cameras were annoying him. One of the things I really needed to learn was how to do that, to roll with the punches, adapt to what was going on, and keep going. Both he and Sam were so good at that, and Sam was so patient with everyone, even when he was really pissed. I was really going to have to work on that.

Finally, Dean forced open an old metal cabinet and pulled out a metal box. Opening it, he found three toe tags inside. Sam and Dean had to explain to the team (and me) that it meant that the ghost had brought home bodies to 'play' with. All of our reactions were 'ew'.

Dean realized that the girl had disappeared, I thought her name was Maggie, and he went to look for her. I stayed with Sam. As Dean was bringing her back to the group, looking annoyed while he was at it, Ed and Harry said that something big was coming. I grabbed Dean's hand in fear as he told us not to move.

And then Sam was gone. Just gone. I watched him disappear before my eyes. I shrieked. "Sam! Sam's gone."

"Shh," Dean said, extracting his hand from mine and searching around the room. "Sam? Sam?" He found Sam's flashlight and yelled "SAM!"

We spent the next several minutes scrambling through the house looking for Corbett and Sam. I stayed as close to Dean as I could, but we were startled out of the search by the sound of fighting. Dean ran towards the noise and shoved himself between Ed and Harry as they fought about something to do with Maggie.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he demanded. "Cut it out! We're down by two people." When it was apparent that they weren't going to fight any more, he turned around and started yelling for Sam again. I ran to keep up.

We didn't find anything and we ended up in the den again. Dean figured out that the guy had a bomb shelter in the basement. He opened the basement door and headed down the stairs with one of the people running the cameras, whose name was Spruce. I went to follow him, but the door slammed shut in my face.

When the door wouldn't open again, I panicked. I banged on the door as hard as I could. "DEAN!" I screamed, "DEAN!" I couldn't lose him too. I had to get to him. I reached inside me, opening my furnace as Harry and Ed yelled through the door at Dean.

"Oh my god, she's glowing," Maggie screamed.

"Jessie," Dean shouted from the other side, banging on the door, his voice harsh. "Lock it down. You'll only burn down the house with us in it! Jessie! Do you hear me?"

Crying, I slammed the furnace door shut and pressed myself against the basement door. "I hear you. Dean, I'm scared," I said.

"I know, sweetheart," he said through the door. "Listen to me. There's salt in my duffel. Make a circle and get inside."

"Ok," I said. "Yes, Dean." I pushed myself away from the door and turned to go back to the main room where Dean had left his duffel. When Ed and Harry didn't follow me, I turned again to find them pressing against the basement door.

"Inside your duffel bag?" Ed asked.

I rolled my eyes as Dean answered. "In the salt, you idiot."

They looked relieved. I shook my head at them. I'd been given a job and I was going to do it. It calmed me somehow. "Come on, I'll show you what to do." I led them back to the main room.

I made the circle as large as I could, making sure I kept the salt with me when we got into it. If something came at us, we could at least use the salt as a weapon against it. Ed, Maggie, and Harry were all freaking out, but I'd been here before, stuck in a circle of salt to protect me from ghosts or demons. I sat down on the floor in the middle of the circle as Ed told Harry that it was ok for Harry to do his sister. Maggie smacked Ed.

I rolled my eyes. "Would you guys grow up? Who the hell cares? And do you really think you have any say in who your sister dates? You don't own her."

"Yeah, Ed," Maggie said, smacking him again.

That's when Corbett showed up in a ghost echo. They continued to freak out.

"We're safe in the salt," I said. "Nothing can get us as long as we don't leave the circle." They wouldn't listen to me, just screamed and hollered about Corbett.

When Corbett disappeared again, they all sat down and discussed the fact that he was a ghost echo, reliving his death in pain over and over.

"At least you've proved you can learn something," I muttered. None of them heard or answered me, and I thought that was probably for the best since I wasn't being very nice. Sam would never have said something like that.

Eventually, Harry started singing his Ghostfacers song over and over again, rocking. I pulled my knees up to my chest and practiced my patience. I only had to wait for Sam and Dean to finish the job. If we just stayed in the circle, we'd be fine. This became my mantra as we waited.

A little later, Corbett showed back up, blessedly interrupting the fourth or fifth rendition of the Ghostfacers song. Ed decided that they needed to free Corbett from his ghost echo.

"Maybe you can't learn anything," I said, standing up as Ed took a step over the salt line. "Don't cross the fucking salt line." I grabbed Ed and tried to pull him back over the line, but Ed shook me free, and Harry helped pull me off him.

"Fine," I said with heat I didn't feel. "It's your funeral." I sat back down on the ground and hoped that they'd be ok. I didn't want them to die even if they were fools, but there was no way to keep them from doing what they wanted to. I held back tears. Why couldn't people just listen when I told them what would keep them safe?

The three of them ignored me. After some coaching from Harry, Ed talked to Corbett's ghost until Corbett recognized him and disappeared. Then Ed got back into the salt circle. "Thank god," I muttered. Once Corbett was gone, we all settled in to wait.

Not too long after that, Sam, Dean, and Spruce came into the room and told us that Corbett had gotten rid of Daggett's ghost. I ran out of the salt circle to Sam and flung my arms around his waist. He groaned but hugged me back. "I'm so glad you're ok, Sam," I said. "I was so scared you were gone forever."

"Can't get rid of me that easily," Sam said.

I let go of Sam and grabbed Dean next. He hugged me back, shaking his head the entire time. "Stay in the salt circle until I say you can come out," he said with no heat, kissing the top of my head. "You ok?"

"Yeah, you?"

"Yeah. Let's get out of here."


	27. Chapter 27 - Girl Keeps Coming Apart

**Here's a quick little bit to hopefully tide you over. I've got plans for the rest of the week/weekend that will likely preclude me making any updates until next week. Thanks for all the reviews!**

* * *

It was dawn when we left the house, which Spruce annoyingly recorded. Sam gave Ed his phone number as we left and told Ed to let him know when the video was edited so they could see it.

I climbed into the back seat and fastened my seat belt. I was absolutely exhausted. I'd been terrified the entire time we were in the house, but now that it was over, it finally seemed to be hitting me. Pressure pounded at the back of my head.

Dean slammed the trunk, and he and Sam got into the car. "I know you guys are tired, but I need to burn something," I said.

"All right. Let's get you away from these cameras first. I've got charcoal in the trunk. As soon as we're settled at a motel, you can burn it up," Dean said. "We're staying in town until they get their video edited."

"What then?" I asked.

Sam and Dean smiled, and Sam said, "Then we make sure it never goes public. I'll have an electromagnet by then that will wipe out all of their hard drives."

I thought about that. "That seems kind of mean," I said.

Dean pulled away from the house, and Sam said, "We can't let this kind of information get out. First off, we're supposed to be dead. If we show up on a reality TV show after we were supposedly killed in Colorado, then the FBI will be back on our tails."

"Oh," I said. I leaned back in the seat, and almost as soon as the Impala's tires hit the asphalt, I was asleep.

Dean shook me awake. We were parked in front of Room 6 at the Midnight Chameleon motel. The buildings were painted a dark blue and there was bright green lizard painted across the side of the office, which didn't make a lot of sense if that lizard was supposed to be a chameleon. I shook my head to get rid of the remnants of the dream I was having. Something about a hearth with bread and salt. I couldn't remember now.

Dean was holding the door open and gesturing for me to get out. "Come on, Jessie. I've got the brazier set up. The sooner you do this, the sooner we can all go to bed."

I climbed out of the Impala and saw the little brazier set up two parking spots over with a bag of charcoal in it. Sleepily, without any thought or preparation, I opened the furnace and pushed all of my excess fire at it, letting go of the flame as it left me. The charcoal flashed and flared, fire shooting up and out from the brazier. The initial ignition was huge. I gasped and jumped back in shock.

I heard Dean cursing behind me. Then he was running towards the flame with the fire extinguisher. Belatedly and guiltily, I reached towards the fire to reestablish a connection, but Dean was already putting it out.

When the fire was out, Dean turned around, his expression furious. I took another step back. "I'm sorry, Dean." I said, holding my hands up in front of me. "I was tired. I didn't think."

He approached and grabbed my arm, dragging me to the motel room. I knew that if he hadn't had the fire extinguisher in his hand, he'd already be spanking me. I apologized the entire way, trying to make it better, but he didn't say anything. He pushed the door open, slamming it into the wall, and propelled me inside, shoving me into a corner.

"What happened?" Sam asked, coming out of the bathroom wrapped in only a towel. I could see him out of the corner of my eye.

I started to turn around to answer, but Dean pressed his hand firmly between my shoulder blades to keep my pointed at the corner. "Little miss firestarter here decided to set the entire parking lot on fire."

I flushed. "What?!" Sam exclaimed.

"I didn't decide to," I said in a small voice. "It wasn't the whole parking lot."

"Quiet," Dean said, moving away from me. I heard him pull out a chair. "The brazier is warped beyond use and the asphalt is melted. Do you know hot something has to be to melt asphalt?"

"The boiling point is around 600 degrees Fahrenheit," Sam said. I heard rustling movements like he was getting dressed.

"How do you know this shit?" Dean asked, his voice muffled. He probably had his head buried in his hands or his arms. I heard him sigh.

I stared at the jungle-pattern wallpaper. "I didn't mean to," I whispered. It didn't matter. I knew better. I was ashamed of myself.

The door opened. I turned my head a little to see Sam going outside. "Come here, Jessie," Dean said.

I turned around and trudged over to stand in front of him. "What the hell were you thinking?" he demanded.

I shrugged and stared at my feet. My shoes were filthy. "I dunno," I said.

"What did you do?" he asked.

"I just, I don't know. I just set the brazier on fire."

"Did you try to let it out in phases like you normally do?"

I flushed guiltily. "No."

"So, what? You just pushed all of your excess fire at the brazier?"

I dug my toe into the carpet. "Yeah," I whispered.

"Did you at least maintain the connection with it?"

I rubbed the back of my neck. "No," I whispered.

"What the hell, Jessie? You didn't even wait until I had the fire extinguisher ready. You know better than that!"

"I'm sorry!" I said. "I was tired. I had a dream…" Fire and heat; bread, salt, and water; and the pleasure of burning. I tingled.

Dean's brows knitted together. "You had a dream," he prompted.

Sam came back in, carrying the brazier. It had heated so much that the brazier was warped into being unusable. "There's a dip in the asphalt where the fire burned it," Sam said. He pointed at me. "You need to be more careful, young lady."

"Yes, Sam," I said, looking away.

"Jessie had a _dream_ before she lit the parking lot on fire," Dean said, looking at me, his eyebrows raised. "You wanna tell us about it?"

"I don't remember it very well," I said. "Just a hearth with fire and bread, salt, and water. I don't know what it means, but when I woke up, I felt very full, like I had to let the fire out." I covered my face with my hands. I so deserved whatever I had coming.

"So you did," Sam said.

Dean ran his hand down his face. "You know better. You know you're supposed to wait for the safety equipment. You know you're supposed to control the flame better, especially when you've got limited material to work with. And you know that you're not supposed to just let go of the flame. What the hell?"

"I don't know!" I wailed.

Dean shook his head and undid my jeans. He slid them down and pulled me over his lap. I wrapped my arms around his leg to steady myself. He brought his hand down over and over on my bottom until I was sobbing. "I'm sorry; I'm sorry!" I insisted through my tears. "I didn't mean to."

Eventually he stopped and let me up, pulling me into his lap to hold me close to him. I kicked off my jeans and wrapped my arms around his neck. I couldn't seem to stop crying. The whole night before and now the dream and the loss of control. It was all too much for me. Dean held me, rubbing my back and whispering soothing words while I cried. Eventually, I quieted and just sat on his lap with my head pressed against his chest.

Dean picked me up and carried me over to my bed, setting me down gently. He helped me take off my shoes and held the blankets up so I could get under them. Then he pulled the blankets up around me. "Be more careful, Jessie," he said. "I don't like punishing you and I'd rather do it less often."

"Yes, Dean," I whispered.

He handed me my little snowman and stroked my hair. "You were very good at the Morton House," he said. "You did everything we said and you stayed with us. I wish you'd gotten out before it went bad though. I'm sorry you had to go through that."

Something tight deep within me let go, and I sighed. "Thanks," I whispered.

"Ok, sweetheart," he said. He kissed my head. "Get some sleep."

I rolled over to face the wall and closed my eyes. Dean went into the bathroom. I was almost asleep when I heard Dean come back out, the sound of the door opening startling me awake. I sighed, rolled over again, and snuggled deeper into my blankets to go back to sleep.

"You think the dreams are more of that goddess?" Sam asked softly from where he was in his bed. I was suddenly very awake and listening. I opened my eyes a little to watch them.

"Sounds like it," Dean said. "The salt, bread, and water on a hearth were in her lucid dream. You make any progress on figuring out who it is?"

Sam shook his head. "There are a lot of fire goddesses and they are all very similar. I've got it narrowed down to three, but I still don't know which one it is for sure, and I haven't found a way to get rid of any of them. Besides, we have to find the goddess before we can kill her."

Dean sighed. "Every time she sees the goddess, she comes away with a deeper well. Her fires are bigger and stronger now that she's been visited by the goddess three times. She needs more fuel each time. Stones, asphalt… We're lucky that she doesn't need to burn more often."

Sam nodded. "Yeah, she seems to be able to hold it for a little longer now, which is a good thing, but when she does need to let it go, there's a lot more of it and it burns a lot hotter."

Dean turned out the main light in the room and got into his bed. "We've got to find that goddess."


	28. Chapter 28 - Once Bitten

I sat in the chair in front of the store manager's desk and buried my head in my knees. I was dead. Dean was going to kill me. Sam was going to kill me. I wasn't going to live until morning, and I'd done it all to myself, as usual.

Mark smiled at me. "You're such a newbie. Nothing's going to happen. They're going to come in, yell at us, call our parents, and send us home." He leaned his chair back onto two legs and rested it against the wall behind him next to the skateboards.

Marcia nodded and giggled. "Yeah, we've gotten caught twice before and that's all that happened." The fact that she was nibbling her nails and furrowing her brow belied her calm tone, and made me even more nervous.

Jerry looked at them in horror. "They call your _parents_?" He blanched. I knew exactly how he felt.

"Yeah, what's the big deal? Your parents come pick you up, you get yelled at, you get grounded, who cares?" Mark shrugged.

I looked at Marcia. "There were signs all over the store about how they call the police if you're caught shoplifting, no exceptions. You ever been caught _here_ before?"

Marcia shook her head and nibbled more quickly, obviously thinking. If Marcia was unsure, that didn't bode well for us. That made the decision for me. I pulled out my phone.

Mark took one look at it and jumped to his feet. "What are you doing?" he asked, alarmed.

I flipped the clamshell open. "I'm calling my dad. I want to live to see morning and if the police are involved… Hey!" I shrieked as Mark knocked the phone out of my hand. "What the hell?"

Mark stood aggressively over my phone and glared at me. "Don't call your dad!"

"Why not? If they are just going to call them anyway…"

Marcia pushed Mark out of the way and picked up my phone. He threw his hands up and dropped back into the folding chair, leaning it back against the wall. Glaring at him, she handed the phone to me. "They call our parents, but Marshall's the one in the hotel office, so he's the one who answers the phone. He's the one who comes down and gets us out of trouble. He just doesn't tell our parents."

I took the phone from her. "I'm going to call my dad," I said. She nodded and I knew she was as afraid of being actually arrested as I was, or maybe she just wanted me to get in trouble so I would tell her about my spanking. It didn't matter either way. I dialed the phone.

It had all started three days earlier on Friday afternoon when we'd pulled into an efficiency motel in the outskirts of Columbus, Ohio. Sam and Dean were back into a heavy search to find a way to get Dean out of his contract. I was mostly useless in this search seeing as sixth grade social studies books didn't really discuss demonology, and the Language Arts book only told stories about how you should never bet with the devil because the devil would always win, regardless of what the Charlie Daniels Band claimed. Sam and Dean were hunkering down for more internet searches, phone calls to professors all over the US, and deep delves into the library at Ohio State University, which had a large collection of religious texts and an entire section of demonology tomes. I might as well not even be there for all the use I'd be, and I'd finished the sum total of my sixth grade coursework the previous week, a good two months early. I was looking at days of boredom just stringing out ahead of me.

Half an hour after we'd checked in, I was staring out the front window into the parking lot, actively being quiet while Sam was on a call and Dean was plugging away at the laptop, when three kids skateboarded into the parking lot from around the back of the motel. They started doing a shitload of skateboard tricks in the empty parking lot, far away from the Impala.

"Dean, can I go outside?" I asked, turning from the window.

Sam looked at me and held his finger up to his lips. I blushed and nodded. Dean didn't look up from the laptop. He just waved at the door. I smiled, grabbed my phone, and bolted.

Two of the three kids were Marcia and Mark Maisenbacher. They were twins, two of the four kids in the family who ran the motel. The third kid was Jerry Stoneham, Mark's best friend. It didn't take long to figure out that while Mark was a show-off who always wanted to be the center of attention, no matter what, and Jerry was more laid back and mild, Marcia was the ringleader. It was obvious in the way that she bossed everyone around and when that didn't work, manipulated her brother and his friend into doing the things that she wanted to do.

I didn't care. That day they dragged me up and down the street. Mark and Marcia's house was behind the motel. Their brother Marshall, sixteen, worked the office with their parents, and they had a seven-year-old brother, Marlow. I laughed to myself when I heard the names.

We spent that entire first afternoon together. They showed me the park down the street and the house of Marcia's long-term enemy, Tammy, who regularly embarrassed Marcia in class, according to Marcia. They lent me a skateboard so I could learn how to ride it, and then they dragged me back to the Maisenbacher house to play with their PlayStation 3.

Around seven, my phone started ringing. I'd texted both Sam and Dean every time I'd changed locations so they knew where I was. I dropped my controller to a chorus of 'heys' and answered it.

"Come back to the room," Dean said. "It's time for dinner."

"Be right there," I said and hung up. "Ok, thanks for letting me hang out. I gotta go, though. My dad says it's time for dinner."

Marcia and Mark looked disappointed. Jerry had taken off an hour before. Marcia said, "Can't you stay here for dinner?"

I hadn't considered that, but now I kinda wanted to. "Will your parents let me?" I asked.

Marcia shrugged. "Yeah, sure," she said, as if it were a ridiculous question.

I called Dean back. "Dean, can I stay here for dinner?"

Dean sighed. "No. I want you home," he said gently.

"Please, Dean? Marcia wants me to stay here and have dinner with them."

"Jessie, I haven't seen you for hours. I want you home. Come back to the room," Dean repeated, a little impatiently.

"But, Dean," I started.

"Now, Jessie," Dean said. He sounded like he was getting annoyed. I decided not to push.

"Ok, I'll be there soon," I said and flipped the phone shut.

Marcia frowned at me as I got up. "You couldn't convince him? You need to learn some better skills."

I laughed. "Yeah, right," I said. "I'm sure it's my skills that are lacking. The day I convince my dad to do anything he doesn't want to do or doesn't agree with is the day that hell freezes over." I got up and headed towards the front door. "I can probably go out again tomorrow," I said, "if you want to hang out again."

Marcia shrugged like she didn't care. "Maybe," she said. I knew she would though.

The next day was Saturday. At ten in the morning, Mark was banging on the door. I opened the door on the second knock, looking behind me to make sure that Sam and Dean hadn't been disturbed. They'd gone out the night before.

"My sister wants you to meet us in front of Tammy's house in ten minutes," Mark said.

"I don't think so," I whispered. I gestured behind me. "They're not up yet and I can't leave until they are."

"Go," Sam groaned from his bed. "Let us get some sleep."

"Thanks, Sam," I said. I grabbed my phone, a motel key, and my shoes and shut the door behind me. Once outside, I sat down on the curb to put my shoes on. "What are we doing?"

Mark shrugged. "Marcia wants to get back at Tammy. I don't know what she has planned."

Once I had my shoes on, we ran down to meet Marcia. She was crouched behind some bushes across the street from Tammy's house. "Hey," I said. "What are we doing?"

Marcia smiled maliciously. "I'm getting back at Tammy for tripping me in front of the whole class. Come on."

My stomach started to hurt as I followed her to the side of Tammy's garage. I wasn't sure that I liked where this was going. I stood by the side of the house while she pried the top of the trash can open. She smiled when she got a good look inside. "Perfect," she said. "Get the hose. Go, go…"

Mark and I walked back to the hose. I looked at Mark. "I don't really think we should be doing this," I said.

He shrugged. "Marcia wants to," he said, like that's all that mattered. "Besides, Tammy's mean to her. She deserves it."

I picked up the end of the hose and dragged it back to Marcia. She stuck the end in the garbage can and Mark turned on the hose. I watched uncomfortably as Marcia filled it halfway with water. She signaled to Mark to turn it off.

"Ok, come on," she said. "Be quiet though."

I snuck along after her while she set the trash can leaning against the door. Then the two of us ran back across the street to hide in the bushes while Mark pressed the doorbell and ran down the street to jump behind some other bushes. Marcia stifled giggles. "Watch," she whispered and pointed at Tammy's house.

I looked across the street just in time for the front door to open and the garbage can to tip inward, spilling garbage and dirty water all over the porch and into the house. The woman who had answered the door screamed as the filthy water spilled over her clothes and shoes.

My stomach hurt even worse. "Oh my god, Marcia," I said. "That's horrible and mean!"

Marcia tossed her brown hair. "Yeah, well she shouldn't have tripped me when I was walking up to get my test."

I stared at her in horror. "You didn't get back at Tammy," I said. "You were horrible to her mom. Her mom didn't trip you."

Marcia smacked my shoulder. "Yeah, well like mother like daughter. I'm sure her mom is just as much a bitch as she is. Come on; let's go before we get caught. Mark's going to meet us at the park." As we crept away from the scene of the crime, I could still hear Tammy's mom screaming.

We spent the rest of the morning at the park, screwing around, playing on the playground equipment, and hanging out together. Jerry came to join us about noon, and Mark started talking about getting the skateboards out again. I was hanging upside down on the monkey bars when my phone started ringing. I dug into my pocket to get it out.

"Hey, Dean," I said, swinging back and forth. Marcia was arguing with her brother and Jerry about whether or not the boys were going to go back to the house to get the skateboards and bring them back to the skate park so she didn't have to make the trek.

"Where are you now?" he asked me.

"I'm on the monkey bars at the park," I said. "I'm upside down right now. My hair is almost long enough to reach the ground." I giggled.

"Ok, Sam and I are headed to the university. Do you want us to come get you? If you don't want us to, I've talked to Mr. and Mrs. Maisenbacher and they're ok keeping an eye on you until we get back."

"I want to stay here," I said.

"All right, but you keep texting us when you change locations, and get back to the room when the streetlights come on. Ok, sweetheart?"

"Yes, Dean," I said.

I spent the rest of the afternoon at the skate park with the three of them. Marcia did eventually talk her brother into getting the skateboards and then Jerry showed me how to do some tricks with the board. As the light began to fade, I turned to Marcia. "Shouldn't we head back?"

"Why?" she asked. "Come on, let's go get ICEEs." The boys picked up their boards. Hesitantly, I followed their lead. We left the park and skateboarded down to the mini mart. Marcia was paying for her and Mark's ICEEs when my phone rang. Marcia looked at me as I answered it.

"Hey, Dean," I said.

"The streetlights are on. Are you back in the room?" Dean asked. I could tell he was in the Impala.

"Uh, no. I'm at the minimart," I said.

"Sam and I are on the way back. You'd better be back in the room by the time I get there," Dean said.

"Yes, Dean," I said. "See you there." I snapped the phone shut. "Shit," I said. "I gotta go." I handed the skateboard to Mark and went to leave the shop.

"Hey," Marcia said, clearly annoyed that I was abandoning them. "Do you always do what your dad says?"

"No," I said, raising my brows, "but I try to, and if you want to see me tomorrow, you won't give me crap about it."

Marcia stared at me for a minute, not used to being stood up to. "Ok, see ya," she said finally, turning back to the counter. I waved at Jerry and Mark and ran out the door.

The next day, I didn't wait for Mark or Marcia to come get me. I showed up at their house at ten in the morning, after Dean and Sam left to go back to the university and told me I could go. I knocked on the door, and Marshall answered. He took one look at me and hollered for Marcia. She came bounding down the stairs, grabbed my hand and pulled me up to her room.

"I have an awesome idea," she said. "Let's give you a makeover."

"Uh," I stuttered. "Ok, but you can't cut my hair."

"I'm not going to cut your hair," she said. She plopped me down in a chair in front of her dressing table. She had a fricken' dressing table, pink with a three pane mirror and cloth hanging down to the floor, just like in the old fifties movies. She pushed my hair back from my face and used a headband to hold it there.

She spent the next hour asking me questions about Dean and Sam. It was ok, and I was able to give our cover story, until she started getting more personal. "So what happens if you don't answer the phone when they call?" she asked. She had an impish, evil grin on her face.

"Uh," I said. She tried to smile reassuringly, but I saw a glint of menace in her gaze. "I get in trouble," I said, trying to stay vague.

"Well, like what kind of punishments would they give you for that?" she asked. She finished putting makeup on my face and took off the headband.

"Uh, well, you know, they'll yell at me," I said, hesitantly.

She picked up a hairbrush and started running it through my hair. "Yeah, but do you ever… you know… get… spanked?" Her hand shook as she ran the brush through my hair.

I kinda froze and looked at her out of the corner of my eye. "Well, yeah, sometimes," I said, "if I really piss them off or put myself in danger."

"So, if you didn't answer the phone?" she prompted.

I sighed, knowing what she wanted. "They'd yell at me and want to know why," I insisted. "It would depend on why I didn't answer."

"And you have to text them every time you go somewhere?" she asked, still brushing.

"Yes. Why are you asking me this?" I reached up and grabbed her hand, turning to face her.

She flushed. "I just want to know," she said. My phone rang suddenly and I dropped her hand. I pulled the phone out of my pocket and went to open it, but she grabbed it away from me. It continued ringing with Sam's ring tone as she held it just out of my reach.

I pushed out of my chair and grabbed for it. "Marcia, this isn't funny! Give me my phone!"

She laughed and ran to her bed, keeping it away from me. I jumped onto the bed after her and started wrestling her to get the phone back, but she wouldn't give it to me. The phone stopped ringing. Pissed off, I hauled off and smacked her across the face. Stunned, she let go of my phone and put her hand over her cheek.

I glared at her and picked up my phone just as it started ringing again. I gave her a warning look as I flipped the phone open and put it up to my ear. "Hey Sam," I said.

"Jessie, we're breaking for lunch. How are you doing? Are you still with Marcia and Mark?"

"Yeah, Marcia was giving me a makeover. Sorry about before, I was having trouble getting the phone out of my pocket." I watched Marcia warily. She'd gone from looking stunned to looking mad.

"No problem. Just wanted to check up on you. We'll call you later. Let us know if you need anything, honey."

"Ok, Sam. Bye." I flipped the phone closed and stuffed it in my pocket, looking up to face my now furious friend. I held up my hands. "I'm sorry, Marcia."

She got out of her bed and descended upon me. "You're sorry? How do you like it?" she shrieked. She hauled off and smacked me across the mouth. My head rang.

"Jesus, Marcia!" I demanded, holding my mouth. "I said I was sorry. You took my phone and wouldn't give it back. What did you expect me to do? I told you I have to answer."

She looked slightly abashed. "Sorry," she said. "You hit me first. I was gonna give it back."

We stared at each other for a minute and then I shrugged. "What do you want to do now?" I asked.

She got an evil look on her face. "Let's go down to the mini mart," she said.

Eager to make the fight up to her, I agreed. We fetched Mark, who was in the backyard practicing football with Jerry, and took the skateboards down to the mini mart. When we got there, there was a delivery truck behind the store, and there was no one behind the counter.

"Yes," Mark said. "Perfect timing, sis. Come on, you guys." He and his sister shared a gleeful smile. Jerry and I looked at each other.

I followed them into the store. It was empty. Mark slipped behind the counter to the porn rack that was there and picked up three magazines, stuffing them under his shirt in the rear waistband of his jeans. Marcia headed down the candy aisle and stuffed several candy bars into her pockets. Jerry and I looked at each other again.

Mark looked around and then hissed at us. "Get with the program," he said. "Take something!" Marcia glared at me.

"This isn't such a good idea," I said, my stomach hurting something fierce. Jerry nodded.

Marcia stomped up the aisle to me, grabbed my arm, and dragged me to the beer case. "Take something." I hesitantly picked up a can of beer. "Go, go," she said. She picked up a couple of bottles of malt liquor and shoved them under her jacket. Emboldened by her encouragement, I shoved a couple more cans into my coat and made sure it was zipped closed.

Mark had yanked Jerry back behind the counter with him and was handing him cigarettes. Marcia made a whistling sound, and they rushed back out from behind the counter. As a store employee came into out of the back room, we all headed to the ICEE machine. I looked at Jerry nervously. We made eye contact, both of us terrified and nervous, but following Marcia's lead as she filled two cups full of ICEE and headed to the front counter.

The next thing that happened was a comedy of errors. Marcia reached into her coat pocket to get her wallet and something in her coat shifted. The bottles of beer came tumbling out the bottom of her coat. I went to catch one of them before it hit the floor and the beers in my coat tumbled out as well. The other beer smashed into bits, spilling the dark amber liquid all over the place. Mark turned too quickly and slipped. He went down on his back, his coat stretching out and the magazines he'd grabbed slipped out of the back of his coat and onto the floor to mix with the beer. Jerry lost his nerve and ran for the door, but a customer coming in grabbed him, and the cigarettes fell out of his pocket.

And that's when we were hustled into the store manager's office and the door locked behind us.


	29. Chapter 29 - Twice Shy

I held my breath while the phone rang, only letting it out when Dean answered. "Hey Dean," I said.

"What's up, Jessie?" He sounded a little impatient and I got the feeling I might have interrupted him in the middle of something. That wasn't good.

"Dean, I, uh, might need some help here." I said. I looked down at my shoes.

"Is everything ok? Where are you?"

"Sullivan's Mini Mart. We kinda got caught shoplifting," I said slowly, swallowing.

Dean was silent for a minute while he absorbed that. I shifted from foot to foot. "Stay where you are, little girl. I'll be right there," he growled.

I snapped the phone shut, dropped back into the chair I'd been sitting in, and pulled my legs back up. "He's coming," I said.

Jerry looked miserable, but Mark was still too oblivious to both his sister's distress and mine to care. He rocked his chair back and forth on its two legs and stared nonchalantly at the wall behind the manager's desk. Finally he dropped it with a thump. "Why do you call your dad Dean?"

"Because that's his name," I said, not taking the bait.

"No, really," he insisted.

"Because that's his name," I repeated. I glared at him, daring him to push me further, but he subsided. The room dropped into silence for while we waited.

Finally, after about twenty minutes, Marcia asked, "Is your dad going to spank you?"

I rounded on her, my temper snapping. "What the hell is your problem? Why are you so fixated on spanking? Is that why you run off and steal shit and play destructive pranks? Because you want a spanking? You want one so bad, I'll fucking give it to you!"

I heard Jerry gasp as I got to my feet and took the two steps to Marcia. She stood up, and I reached for her. She swatted my hands away and grabbed me. We tumbled to the floor, wrestling as I tried to flip her over and she tried to get away from me. The boys were yelling at us to stop, but neither of us listened. The folding chairs we'd been sitting in got pushed to the side, folded themselves up and fell over on us, but neither of us gave a crap as we whaled on each other.

I didn't hear the door open, but I did hear Dean demand, "What in the hell is going on here?" Someone lifted Marcia off the top of me, and someone else pulled me to my feet and let me go. Turning, I hurriedly wiped tears off my cheeks as I took in the store manager, Sam, and Dean standing in the doorway. Sam was holding onto Marcia, who had given up fighting and was sobbing. I could see other people behind them, but I was more immediately concerned with the look on Dean's face as he regarded me. I wanted to disappear.

"Hey, Dean, Sam," I said in a small voice. I looked away, unable to meet Dean's eyes.

"Don't you 'Hey, Dean' me, little girl," Dean growled out, his eyes running over me in search of obvious injury. "Shoplifting and now fighting? You are in so much trouble."

I flushed, acutely aware of all the people staring at us. "It's her fault, Dean! She started the entire thing!" I pointed at Marcia, whose eyes narrowed in anger.

Dean shook his head. "I don't want to hear it right now. Sit your butt down in one of those chairs before I make it so you can't."

My hands shaking from adrenaline and embarrassment, I picked up one of the folding chairs that had fallen over, opened it, and pushed it into the wall as far away from Dean as I could get. I pulled my feet up into the chair with me and rested my head on my knees, so glad that I hadn't heard any snickers from anyone.

The store manager squeezed his way past Sam and Dean to take a seat behind his desk. It turned out that the other people I'd seen were Mrs. Maisenbacher and Ms. Stoneham.

Mrs. Maisenbacher was intimidating. Short and round, the expression on her face was hard and angry. She took one look at Marcia and Mark and pointed to the chairs that we had knocked over in our brawl. Marcia went white while her brother rushed to set up the chairs. "Mom," Marcia stuttered. "It's not what it looks like."

Mrs. Maisenbacher nodded shortly. "Oh, I know it's not," she said in a hard voice. "I spoke to Marshall, and he told me _everything_. He told me all about rescuing your asses from multiple stores and then paying the fines out of the motel's cash box so your dad and I wouldn't know." She gave Marcia a long, steady look, and Marcia shrank into herself. "But we'll talk about that later. For now, why don't you and your brother have a seat?"

Marcia dropped into the chair that her brother had set up next to mine. Ducking my head, I said under my breath, "Maybe you'll be getting that spanking you want after all."

"Jessie!" Sam snapped. My head shot up to find him glaring at me sternly. "Do you want to stand in the corner, young lady?"

"No," I burst out almost involuntarily, embarrassed at just the question.

"Then be quiet," he said. He stared at me until I nodded. I resolved to say nothing else; I just put my head back against my knees and prayed that it would all be over soon.

Jerry wouldn't even look at or speak to his mother. He just set up a folding chair and set down next to us, staring as hard as he could at the floor. His mother watched him the whole time, though, anger stretched through her thin face. She looked to the store manager once he was settled.

The store manager was a combination of self-righteous, pleased, and embarrassed. "I was really surprised when you showed up," the manager said, pulling some forms out of his desk. "I hadn't even had time to get the phone numbers yet."

Dean crossed his arms over his chest. "The magic of technology," he said flatly.

"I'm not going to call the police," the manager said. "I just need to fill out these forms listing what they tried to steal and they'll be required to pay a fine if they want to avoid prosecution."

"What exactly did they steal?" Ms. Stoneham asked in a sweet voice that belied the look on her face. I heard Jerry groan.

"Well, yours stole cigarettes. The other boy stole pornography. The brown haired girl stole malt liquor and candy, and the redheaded girl stole four cans of beer," the store manager said, pointing to each of us in turn.

Sam looked at me. Then he picked up the form and a pen off of the desk and handed it to me. "Why don't you make it easier on the manager and fill this out yourself?" he said, clearly not actually asking. I accepted the paper from him. Bracing it against my legs, I put down my name, and then I looked at him. "What address am I supposed to use?" I asked quietly.

"Bobby's," Dean said, not looking at me. "How much is the fine?"

"It was four cans of beer, so fifty dollars is probably what will be assessed," the manager said. Mrs. Maisenbacher and Ms. Stoneham liked Sam's approach and were handing the forms to their kids as well.

"Can I pay it now?" Dean asked. "And then she doesn't have to fill out the form?"

The manager shrugged. "Sure, but she's not going to be allowed back in the store again."

"That doesn't matter," Dean said. He pulled out his wallet and dropped a fifty on the desk. The manager picked up the money. "Let's go, Jessie. Keep that form," Dean said brusquely.

I got to my feet uncertainly, holding onto the form, and dropped the pen on the store manager's desk. Sam inclined his chin towards the manager. "Apologize."

I blinked and a little bit of anger flared in me. "Why?"

Sam narrowed his eyes at me and crossed his arms over his chest. "That's one," he said.

My heart gave a little jump, but I doubled down. "I mean it, Sam! He locked me in his office, scared the crap out of me, and then charged us fifty bucks for four cans of beer that we don't even get to keep. Why the hell should I apologize?"

"That's two," Sam said. "You wanna go for three? Because I don't buy that you don't know why you owe this man an apology."

I narrowed my eyes and opened my mouth to respond. Sam held up a hand to stop me, "If anything but an apology comes out of your mouth, you are going regret it, young lady, so I recommend that you get that defiant look off your face and think about exactly what you want to do here."

I stood stiffly for a minute and then gave up. "I'm sorry, sir. I shouldn't have been stealing in your store and you can bet I'll never do it again at any other store either. Also, I'm sorry we made a mess in front of your cash register."

The store manager smiled a little in spite of himself and opened his mouth to respond when from behind me, Marcia whispered, "Wimp."

I lost what little control I had over my anger. I whirled around and threw myself at her, landing hard on her lap and tearing the form she was working on. My elbow went into her stomach and I pushed her head against the wall, hard, and held it there. I could feel pressure pounding at the back of my head and in my temples. She gasped as I started to glow. I could see it around my hand as it pressed into her forehead.

That's when Sam picked me up and flung me over his shoulder. "Thank you for your time," he said to the store manager and carried me out of the office. Marcia mouthed "I'll get you," at me as the door shut behind us.

"Calm down and breathe," Sam said, but now that Marcia was no longer in my sight, I could feel my anger fading and my apprehension growing. I struggled to breathe as Sam carried me out to the Impala and set me down next to it. "Get into the car."

I didn't argue; I just got in. I fastened the seatbelt and pulled my legs up into the seat with me. Neither of them said a word to me for the short trip back to the motel. I stared out the window and knew I was dead. I just wasn't sure how dead.

When Dean pulled up in front of the motel, he turned around in his seat and looked at me. "Get your ass in the room and into a corner. I don't want to hear another word out of you. You got me?"

I swallowed and nodded. I opened the car door and followed Sam into the room, going straight to the corner by my bed. They left me there for a long time while they finished making phone calls, clearing up whatever business I'd made them abandon. Guilt shot through me. I'd derailed the search to find a way to get Dean out of his contract. What if I was the reason he ended up going to hell now, because I'd interrupted them and they weren't able to talk to someone who knew something? I struggled with that for a few minutes until I heard Sam set up a replacement appointment for the next day. I heard Sam's phone click closed.

"Jessie, come here," Dean said. I jumped. I'd been in the corner for at least a half an hour. I turned to find Dean standing next to a chair at the table in the opposite corner of the room. Sam was leaning against the wall near him. My heart sank. I was in trouble with both of them. "Now," Dean prompted.

I bowed my head and trudged over to him, taking a seat in the chair he'd pulled out for me. From where I was sitting, Sam was leaning against the wall in front of me and Dean was slightly behind me and to the right. I felt surrounded and very, very small.

Sam looked down at me. "Why don't you tell us exactly what happened today?" he said.

Some small piece of bravado made me say, "It was all flowers and sunshine. I baked some cookies and had a tea party."

Dean leaned over me from the side. I could feel the heat radiating from him and goose bumps rose on my arms. "Do you think this is funny, little girl? Do you think we're joking here? Having a good time?" he growled.

Scared at his tone and his closeness, I gasped out, "No, Dean!"

"Then why don't you put away the sarcasm and smart ass remarks and start telling us just what the hell you thought you were doing shoplifting at a convenience store! And just what the hell is on your face?" Dean ground out.

I stared down at my lap. My jeans were smeared with dirt and I smelled like a brewery. I sighed. "Marcia gave me a makeover. She put make up on me and brushed my hair. Then she wanted to go to the mini mart, so we got on the skateboards and went. She made me steal the beer and then we got caught and I called you and that was it."

Dean looked up at Sam. Arms crossed and eyes narrowed, Sam asked, "Made you steal beer? How exactly did she _make_ you steal it?"

"The place was empty because there was a delivery and Mark was taking the magazines from behind the register. Marcia pulled me back to the cooler and told me to take some."

Dean shook his head. "Did she threaten you?" Dean asked, coming around in front of me to stand near Sam.

"No," I said in a small voice.

"Did she hurt you?" Sam asked, raising his brows.

"No," I said, even more quietly.

"Did she hurt someone else or threaten to hurt someone else if you didn't do it?" Dean asked.

I shook my head.

Sam frowned. "So all she did was encourage you to take the beer? Was there any reason at all you couldn't have just walked out of the place?"

"They're my friends!" I said. "I couldn't just leave them!"

Dean snorted and crossed his arms over his chest. "Your friends, huh? Those kids were not your friends. Friends don't drag friends into stores and convince them to steal."

Sam said, "You could leave them. All you had to do was turn around and leave the store. You don't have to do things because your friends do them. You have a brain, Jessie. Use it. Make your own decisions."

Dean came over to me and crouched down in front of me, holding my chin so that I met his eyes. "Do we even need to discuss why shoplifting is wrong?" I shook my head. "Fine," Dean said. "Go get your hairbrush."

I wanted to argue, but I knew it was no use. I trudged to my clothes bag and dug around until I came up with the wood-backed hairbrush. I carried it back to Dean. He took it from me and set it on the table. "Why am I spanking you, Jessie?"

I hung my head. "I stole beer." I started crying. "I didn't even want the beer."

Dean's face softened a little, but he undid the button on my jeans anyway, yanked them down, and put me over his knee. I grabbed his leg and held on as his hand descended on my panty-clad bottom. I was sobbing by the fifth swat. He spanked me over and over, and then when I hoped he was done, he shifted my hips and pulled down my panties.

"No," I objected. "No! Dean!" I put my hand behind me to block him, but he simply put my hand in the small of my back and brought his the hairbrush down on my bare bottom. I couldn't count them. I could only focus on the sharp smacks of pain as the hairbrush struck me again and again.

When he was done, he pulled my panties back up over my bottom and put me on my feet, my jeans still puddled around my ankles. "Don't you ever shoplift again without a really good reason," Dean said. "I mean it. You got me?"

"Yes, Dean," I sobbed. I went to pull up my jeans, but Sam cleared his throat.

"You might as well take those off," Sam said. I paled, but heeled off the shoes and dragged my feet out of them. Dean abdicated the chair, and Sam took his place. "Tell us about the fighting, young lady," Sam said.

I flushed, very aware of my bare legs. I ran around all the time in sleep shirts. I didn't know why I felt so vulnerable. My t-shirt was covering my panties. Maybe it was the pain radiating from my bottom.

I took a deep breath. "Marcia was baiting me about being spanked and I lost my temper. I just wanted her to stop." Sam nodded once and pulled me over his lap. He didn't even bother with leaving the panties on. He simply pulled them down and brought his hand down on my already reddened bare bottom.

"You need to learn how to control your temper," Sam said as he spanked. "You almost lost control of your fire in there. That is inexcusable. It's dangerous and irresponsible. Someone baiting you about something is not an excuse to hit them. Do you understand me?"

Sobbing, I wailed, "Yes, Sam!"

He stopped spanking with his hand and picked up the hairbrush. I winced when I heard it scrape the table. He brought the hairbrush down, spanking me as he said, "Fighting is dangerous. You could get hurt. You could hurt someone else. You do not start fights unless you or someone else is in danger and that's the only way to stop it."

"Yes," I squealed. "Ok. No fighting! No shoplifting! I'm sorry! Please!"

Sam laid two sharp smacks where my bottom meets my thighs and then pulled my panties back up. He set me on my feet. "Go stand in the corner and think."

I rubbed tears out of my eyes and stood in the corner, hugging myself and crying softly. They let me stand there for a while, and then Dean called me out of the corner. I went over to him where he was sitting on the couch and he pulled me into his arms. "You learn your lesson?" Dean asked. I nodded. "I don't ever want to have to talk to you about this again. You understand me?"

"Yes, Dean. I'm sorry," I whispered. He kissed the top of my head and held me. I leaned my head against his chest and relaxed into his arms. Any time either of them held me in their lap after a spanking or when I was upset, I felt so small, so safe, so comforted, so loved.

When Dean let me up, Sam gestured to me and I went over to him. He pulled me into his lap, too. "You're on restriction for a week," Sam said as he held me. "No complaints. You're lucky we're not taking the hunting lessons away, but if you push us, we will."

"Yes, Sam," I whispered. He kissed the top of my head and I reveled in the feeling of being held.

When Sam let me up, Dean said, "You smell like beer. Go get in the shower and then we'll go down to the laundry room and do your laundry." I smiled at him.

"Yes, Dean," I said and headed into the bathroom.


	30. Chapter 30 - Girls Wanna Fight

Since I was stuck on restriction with nothing to do for the rest of the day, Sam gave me an essay to write when we got back from the laundry room. It was a two part essay. The first part was about when it's appropriate to steal something, which basically boiled down to only if you're saving the world or someone's life or you have no choice or you need to support saving the world or someone's life. The second part was about keeping my temper and not getting into fights. The second part was the harder one. Yeah, the reasons why I should keep my temper were pretty clear and I'd just had my ass handed to me about them, but when I tried to imagine keeping my temper, especially when faced with someone treating me like Marcia was… Well, that was harder to take.

The worst part about a spanking, aside from having disappointed Sam and Dean, was that my butt stayed sore for a while afterwards, and I kept having to shift on the chair. After an hour of working on the essay, I gave my best puppy dog eyes to Sam. "Please can I be done for a while?" I asked.

Sam got up from the couch where he was working on his laptop and came over to the table. He skimmed what I'd written. "Yeah, you can work more on it tomorrow." he said. "Go sit on your bed. No books."

I sighed. My punishment was apparently boredom. I pulled out the deck of cards that I kept in my butterfly bag and started playing solitaire. Dean came back in from outside, carrying his laundry with him. "You guys hungry?" he asked.

"I am," I said. Anything to get out of the room.

Sam got up and put a shirt on over his t-shirt. I pulled my shoes out from under the roll-away and pulled them on. Dean dumped his clothes on his bed and grabbed his keys. We headed out to the car.

Dean unlocked the car, went to open the door, and came away with a handful of something brown. "What the…?" he asked. Sam wasn't paying attention and did the same thing right as Dean said. "Ugh! Dog shit."

Pranks. There was one person I knew who loved playing pranks and I'd bet anything that she had just snuck out of her room and put dog shit under the car handles. I turned around and headed towards her house, too angry to really think.

"Freeze, young lady," Sam said. "Where do you think you're going?"

I took a couple of deep breaths. "I know who did it," I said without turning around, "who put that there."

"Yeah, we know too," Dean said. "But you're on restriction and not allowed to go anywhere. How about you help us clean it up instead."

I sighed and went into the room, grabbing a couple of dirty towels and dragging them back outside. Sam and Dean both cleaned their hands off in the room while I cleaned the door handles, anxious to go beat the snot out of Marcia, but knowing that taking off would just get me in more trouble. I didn't want to be in more trouble. I wanted Sam and Dean to be happy with me, not angry at me.

I reminded myself of that while I cleaned the door handles. My only comfort was that I was using the hotel towels to clean it and I knew that Marcia had to help with the hotel laundry. I sighed. It wasn't enough.

I went to drop the towels outside of the office and saw her inside, watching me. She pointed at me and mouthed 'ha ha ha'. I met her eyes and held them, opened the dirtiest towel, and smeared the dog shit from the towel on the office window. Then I dropped the towel and turned around to walk away. Sam and Dean came out of the motel room as Marcia came out of the office. She couldn't do a damn thing to me, so as we drove by on the way out of the parking lot, I smugly flipped her off. It was almost enough… almost.

When we got back to the room, there was petroleum jelly on the motel door. Sam's hand slipped right off it. My ire spiked another notch. Sam got the door open and then turned and walked to the motel office. I went inside, got another dirty towel and wiped off the door knob. I sat and fumed.

"Jessie, you want to go burn something?" Dean asked me.

"Hell, yeah," I said. The fire was pounding in the base of my skull, so ready to come out. Dean grabbed the newish brazier and the coal and we headed out to the parking lot, but went around the corner of the motel, out of the sight of the office. Dean set up the brazier with the first bag of coal, got the fire extinguisher from the trunk, and waited. I lit it up. We repeated that four more times, and I could still feel fire aching to get out.

"Do you have one more?" I asked.

Dean looked at me. "Six bags tonight?" I shrugged. "Wait here," he said and headed back to the room to get another bag.

I leaned against the corner of the building and lazily scanned the parking lot. As soon as Dean went into the room, I saw Marcia come around the other corner with a bag of flour. She had a mean look on her face as she walked up to the Impala and started dumping it on the hood, spreading it around.

I saw red and black and maybe a little bit of purple. I sprinted down the walk in front of the rooms and shoved her away from the Impala as hard as I could. She stumbled backwards, and when she got a good look at me, her eyes got wide and she started running.

I took off after her. She hadn't been practicing running with Sam for months or doing muscle-building exercises with Dean. She didn't have a chance in hell. We had almost reached her house when I got close enough to tackle her. The flour poofed out of the bag as she landed on top of it with a thump, knocking the air out of her. I rolled her over and tried to punch her in the mouth, but she shoved me off of her and tried to get to her feet to run again. I yanked her foot and she landed back on the ground.

Realizing she wasn't going to get away that easily, she stopped trying to run and started fighting back. She grabbed my hair and yanked as hard as she could. I shrieked and followed her hand, ending up on my back on the ground. She let go of my hair and jumped on top of me, landing hard on my stomach. I rolled, flipping her into the flour that was now all over the lawn. She swung and hit me in the side of the head. My eye flashed with pain and bright lights when her wrist hit it. I punched her in the stomach and she doubled over in pain. I pushed her back on her back, straddled her and punched her in the eye and then in the mouth. She screamed.

"Jessie Elizabeth Winchester!" Dean yelled. I heard him pounding up behind me and ignored him, cocking my arm back to hit her just one more time. Dean grabbed my arm before I finished the punch and pulled me off of her. He swung me around and landed six hard swats on the seat of my jeans. Since my butt was still sore from the earlier spanking, I cried out.

"Dean, stop! Stop!" I hollered. He let go of my arm and I spun around, clasping my hands over my sore butt.

He pointed at the lawn. "Sit. Now."

I looked at him warily as I eased myself onto the ground, sitting with my legs crisscrossed. While Dean checked on Marcia, I looked around. Mark and Marshall were standing at the edge of the lawn and the driveway. I had no idea how long they'd been watching. I heard voices behind me and saw Mrs. Maisenbacher hurrying towards the house with Sam.

I started to get to my feet with the intent to go back to the room as quickly as possible. Dean didn't even turn around. "Little girl, you so much as move an inch, and I'll take off my belt and blister you bare right here."

I eased myself back down and covered my face. "Dean, she was dumping flour on the Impala!" I said through my hands.

"Not one more word until I ask you for it. You got me?" Dean asked, looking over his shoulder at me. His face was deadly serious. I nodded. Sam and Mrs. Maisenbacher finally reached us, and Dean told Sam to get some ice. Mrs. Maisenbacher crouched down next to Dean and the two of them discussed what happened as Sam headed into Mrs. Maisenbacher's house to fetch an ice pack.

What the hell had I done to Marcia?

I sat on the ground and bit my nails as I watched Dean tilt Marcia's head forward and direct her to hold her nose shut. Her nose was spurting like a fountain. I didn't remember hitting her nose. Sam came rushing back and handed Dean an ice pack wrapped in a kitchen towel, which Dean put over Marcia's eye. Marcia sat on the ground with her nose clutched in one hand and the ice pack pressed against her eye with the other hand.

Part of me was really satisfied, and part of me was completely ashamed of myself. I looked down at myself. Aside from dirt and flour covered clothing, I was pretty much untouched. Sam came over to me and handed me an ice pack. "Put this on your eye," Sam said. I accepted the ice pack and pressed it against my right eye where Marcia had hit me.

Sam stood behind me and I leaned against his legs. He let me and I felt a little better, less abandoned. Once Marcia stopped bleeding, Mrs. Maisenbacher got to her feet. "What the hell happened here?"

Marcia clutched the ice pack to her eye and burst into tears. My blood pressure rose. Those were fake tears if I'd ever seen them. "She was mad at me because I got us caught shoplifting," Marcia claimed, pointing at me. "She jumped me in the parking lot when I was coming back to the house after helping clean the window in the office."

Mrs. Maisenbacher held up one hand at her daughter, who trailed off in confusion. "I want to hear from her," she said. "I'm tired of listening to your lies."

A weird sense of relief washed over me. "Uh," I said. I looked at Marcia, who glared at me with intense hatred. I swallowed and looked at Dean. He raised his eyebrows and waited. "After we got caught shoplifting today, when we went to leave for dinner, someone had smeared dog, uh, poop under the door handles of the car. Then when we got back, someone had coated the room door in Vaseline. I, uh, I thought it was probably Marcia because she… um, anyway," I said, realizing that I'd be incriminating myself if I told about the garbage can. "So, I thought it was probably Marcia..."

Dean interrupted me. "Why?" he asked.

I flushed and stopped leaning on Sam's legs. "Dean, I don't want…"

"Why, little girl?" Dean insisted. His hand went to his belt and I swallowed.

"Because I was with her when she played a prank on someone named Tammy, or really, her mom, I guess," I said. "She filled a half-full garbage can with water and leaned it against the door of the house so that when the lady opened the door, the can fell in and flooded her house with water and trash."

"You did what?" Mrs. Maisenbacher shrieked, glaring at her daughter. "To Roni? That was you?" She started yelling at her daughter in loud, clipped words.

Dean took a few steps closer to me so he wouldn't have to make himself heard over Mrs. Maisenbacher's tirade at Marcia. "Did you help with that?" he asked softly, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Yeah, but I didn't know what she was doing. I swear, Dean! I would never have helped if I had known that's what she was doing!"

"So you walked into it with no reservations whatsoever?" Sam asked, looking down at me.

I looked up at him, towering above me from where I was sitting in the grass. "Well, no. I thought she might be doing something mean, but I didn't know for sure! I wouldn't have helped if I'd known! I swear!"

The two of them regarded me and I felt about six inches tall. "I'm sorry," I said. "I'm really, really sorry."

Mrs. Maisenbacher had subsided in yelling at her daughter and looked back at me expectantly. "So you thought it was her because you helped her pull a different prank? What happened then?"

"I was outside around the corner with Dean and he went into the room to get something, and she came out and started pouring flour over Dean's car. He loves that car, and I got mad. It was the third thing she'd done to us this afternoon, and I chased her down, and when I caught her, I lost my temper…" I trailed off and looked at the ground, picking at the brown grass.

Mrs. Maisenbacher looked at me and then grabbed her daughter and pulled her to her feet. She patted all the pockets of Marcia's jeans until she came up with a little bottle of corn syrup. "Was this going on the windshield, Marcia?" Marcia went white. "Damn your father and his stories of the pranks they pulled in his frat house. This is inappropriate behavior. You get in the house and go to your room. Go, now!" Marcia burst into real tears this time and ran into the house, still clutching the ice pack to her eye.

Mrs. Maisenbacher turned to us and said, "I'm sorry that my daughter has been such a trial to the three of you. I promise that I will take care of it. If you'd like her to clean your car for you…?"

"No, that's ok," Dean said. "I've got my own daughter for that. Jessie, get up. We're going back to the room."

I got up and took Sam's hand. Dean shook hands with Mrs. Maisenbacher while they exchanged a few more minor pleasantries. Sam shook her hand as well, but I slipped behind Sam so I wouldn't have to talk to her. Sam tugged me out and looked at me expectantly.

"Thanks, Mrs. Maisenbacher," I said, digging my toe into the lawn. "Sorry I hurt Marcia."

"I'm just glad someone finally told me the trouble she's causing, so thank you, Jessie. I'm sure that your dad will take care of the rest. I'll see the three of you later," she said and waved as she walked towards the house. She spoke to Marshall briefly and he headed down towards the hotel office, presumably to watch the desk while she took care of her errant daughter.

Dean nudged me. "Back to the room," he said. As we walked, he asked, "How's your eye?"

"I dunno," I said. "Doesn't really hurt."

Dean sighed and muttered, "Like I'd let that little brat anywhere near my car again." I snorted. When we got to the room, Sam went back inside and Dean picked up the bag of charcoal he'd dropped. He carried it back around the corner to the brazier and I lit it up, burning away the last of my fire. On the way back to the room, I slid my hand into his.

"In the corner, Jessie," Sam said as we came in the room. I sighed. I'd known it was coming. I just wished it hadn't come so soon on the heels of the previous spanking. I dropped the ice pack on the table and got into the corner. They went off to the other side of the room and spoke quietly to each other. I mostly couldn't hear them, but I knew they were talking about me because I heard Sam say a little loudly, "Dean, it's your area," and then Dean said, "I'm going to be gone soon." Guilt swallowed me as their voices faded back.

They didn't leave me there long. "Come here, Jessie," Dean said. He was sitting on one bed and Sam was on the other.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I lost my temper, but she was hurting your car. You have to understand…"

"What did we just tell you about fighting?" Dean asked. "What did Sam just have you write?"

"I'm sorry," I said a little frantically. "I know, I'm not supposed to, but she wasn't going to stop."

"And so you did what?" Sam asked. "You chased her down and beat the crap out of her? Don't you think there were some other options you could have taken?" I flushed. Sam crooked his finger at me. "Come here."

I took the two steps to stand in front of him, and he undid my jeans and let them drop onto the floor. He pulled me over his lap and brought his hand down hard, over and over. "You know what I did, Jessie? I went down to the office and talked to her mom. I trusted her mom to handle it. Don't you think you could've done something like that, young lady?"

I was having trouble concentrating. His hand kept falling and my butt was already sore from earlier. I couldn't figure out what he was saying. "I don't know!" I wailed. "Yes?"

"Or maybe," Sam continued, his hand still falling. "You could have come and talked to me or Dean about it. You could have chased her away from the car and come and told us, rather than chasing her down. Then we could have gone to her parents. Did you think about that?"

"Noooooo!" I wailed. My butt was on fire. Sam stopped spanking.

"You need to get control of that temper of yours," Sam said. "You need to stop giving into it. You need to stop letting it control you. Getting mad is not an excuse to disobey us. Do you understand me?"

I was crying into the bedspread. "Yes, Sam," I said.

He put me on my feet. "Go get your hairbrush." Still sobbing, I extricated myself from my jeans, trudged to my bag, and pulled out the hairbrush. I took it back to Sam and he turned me back over his knee.

"No! Sam," I cried.

He brought down the brush, punctuating each word with a swat. "You do not fight unless it's the last option. When you fight, you get hurt and other people get hurt and that is not acceptable. Every time you get into a fight unnecessarily, this is where you'll be, over my knee. Fighting is a last resort. Do you understand me?"

"Yes," I shrieked. Sam dropped the hairbrush onto the bed, helped me sit up, and held me while I cried. When I stopped, he helped me up and turned me to face Dean.

I turned to look at Dean, dreading what he had to say.

"I'm going to let you off on the prank you pulled with Marcia yesterday. We talked about letting people pressure you into things this morning, and I think we made that clear, but if you ever do anything destructive like that again to an innocent bystander, then I'll have you over my knee so fast, your head will spin."

"Yes, Dean," I said, ashamed.

"You scared us, Jessie. Running off and fighting with that girl. You could've gotten hurt and it's sheer luck that you didn't. You could've been the one with a bloody nose and black eye. Not to mention the fact that I told you to stay with the brazier. Instead you ran off. What the hell were you thinking?"

My temper tickled me. "I was thinking that that bitch was pouring flour all over your precious baby and that she needed to be stopped!" I growled.

Dean dropped his head, but not before I saw a tinkle of laughter and pride on his face. I stood there a little confused while he struggled with it. Eventually, he gave up. "Fine," he said. "And I'm happy you stopped her, but next time, do what Sam said and come get us after you chase the person off. Ok?"

"Yes, Dean," I said, a little relieved. But then his face got serious.

"And the next time you get into a fight unnecessarily, after Sam is done with the hairbrush, you can look forward to the belt. You got me?"

"That's not fair!" I cried, unhappy at the turn back to seriousness. "Why does everything end in the belt with you!"

"Because it's the only thing that you seem to take seriously," Dean said. "I can show you right now if you need it. Do you need it, little girl?"

I met his eyes defiantly, but couldn't bear it. After a second or two, I dropped my eyes and shook my head.

"I'm adding a week to your restriction," Dean said. "And you can kiss the hunting lessons good-bye now."

"Aw, man," I muttered. I was supposed to get a trip to shooting range soon. I'd learned all the parts of a revolver and how to take it apart and put it back together. I was really looking forward to the gun range.

"Shower, PJs, teeth, bed," Dean said and pointed at the bathroom.

"It's only 7:30!" I objected.

"Are you arguing with me?" Dean growled. I shook my head. "Be happy you're getting off with just an early bedtime. Shower, now."

I went.


	31. Chapter 31 - Nobody Called Today

The next morning, I got up early with the guys. Sam had a meeting with a professor at the university to talk about getting Dean out of his contract and to discuss my goddess problem.

"Dean, can I come with you guys to the university today instead of staying in the car?" I asked as he was filling his pockets to get ready to go.

"You're on restriction," he said.

"Please, Dean? I just don't want to be alone," I said. I was feeling kinda shaky and insecure with all of the chaos that had happened over the last couple of days. I didn't want to stay in the car. I wanted company and reassurance.

Dean shrugged, with a half-smile on his face. "Ok, but you're at my side the entire time we're there, ok? And you'd better be on your best behavior," he said with no heat.

I smiled. "I totally will!" I said.

The university was really awesome. Every time we went to one, I was astounding by the breadth of them. Huge, covered in old-fashioned buildings, and the libraries were full of all these books. Sometimes I got a little overexcited about the books.

We parked in a visitor's lot and Sam went in to talk to the professor while Dean and I sat on a bench outside. It was cold and drizzly out, so I scooted closer to Dean to use his warmth to my advantage, pulling my legs up in front of me to hug them. He dropped an arm over my shoulder and pulled me closer to him, and we sat there and watched the college kids go by. Actually, I'm pretty sure he was checking out all the girls, but I was watching all of them.

About a half hour after we sat down, Dean asked, "You hungry? I'm hungry. Let's get something to tide us over until Sam comes out."

We headed over to a hot sandwich vendor and Dean got two barbecue beef sandwiches and a couple of sodas. He handed me one. We went back to sit on the bench. Dean had eaten about half his sandwich when his phone rang.

"Hey, Bobby," he said, and then spent about ten minutes talking to him. I overheard vague things, like Ohio and spirit. Mostly I was concerned with my own sandwich. As Dean was finishing up the call, Sam came out of the building. Dean hung up and handed Sam a soda.

Sam reported that the professor didn't know anything about Dean's situation, but he'd finally been able to narrow down my goddess to one of two. It was either a Lithuanian fire goddess named Gabija or the Roman goddess Vesta.

Dean told him that we needed to get on the road because Bobby had given us a case in northern Ohio. A spirit had made a guy blow his head off. The two of them argued about whether or not we should abandon looking for a way to get Dean out of his deal to go hunt down this spirit. Finally, Sam said that they should summon Ruby and Dean told him that Ruby had told Dean that she couldn't help him. Sam got mad that Dean hadn't told him before this and then Dean got mad because Sam had kept things from Dean that Sam had found out from Ruby. Finally, when they had both lost their tempers but hadn't resolved damn thing, Sam stalked off towards the car, tossing the soda in the trash along the way. Dean and I followed along after him.

We went back to the motel, packed up our stuff, and got on the road. I managed to completely avoid Marcia and hoped we never came back through this town again. Since we were already in Ohio, the trip was a short one, only a couple of hours.

Dean checked us into a motel when we got to Milan, Ohio. They had to go question the wife of the guy who had shot himself. Since I was on restriction, I had to go along, but stay in the car. It was a long, boring day. The only upside was that Dean had tossed me the keys to the car when they went into the house, so I got to listen to the radio. He'd even winked at me.

I was so glad he wasn't mad at me. Neither of them ever stayed mad, sometimes wary, but never mad. They didn't hold grudges either. They always forgave me when it was over, hugged me and held me, and made me feel loved.

I really hoped they found a way to get Dean out of his contract before time ran out. If he went to hell, well, I didn't know what I'd do. I'd just gotten used to having him as my dad. I needed both Sam and Dean. I didn't want to lose either of them.

My mind trailed to the goddess. It was either Vesta or Gabija. If I could get my hands on his laptop, I bet I could figure out which one it was. Not that I was allowed near his laptop while I was on restriction, but maybe they'd let me on it if I asked and told them why. Especially since they were both busy working the case and Dean had been eager to find the goddess after I melted the brazier.

It occurred to me that despite my growing storage space for fire, I hadn't actually had a dream about the goddess in days. Maybe she wasn't coming back. Yeah, that seemed unlikely, but a girl could hope.

About twenty minutes after the guys went into the house, they came back out, looking grim. I slid back into the back seat and fastened my seatbelt as they got in.

"Well?" I asked.

"Well," Sam said. "Strange number on the caller ID, and the husband was talking to a woman named Linda, but when the wife picked up the extension, there was no one on the other end."

"That's weird," I said.

"Yeah," Dean said, starting the car. "That's what we do. Weird."

I snorted. Dean drove us towards the motel and the two of them talked about the case, but neither of them had any ideas, aside from it being a spirit. As they turned into the motel, I had finally built up enough courage to ask, "You know, I know I'm on restriction and everything, but maybe you guys could let me use the laptop later? I could look up the goddesses and see if I can figure out which one it is? I might have forgotten something that reading up on them would help."

Sam and Dean looked at each other, and then Sam said, "I don't see why not. Once we finish looking up Linda and figure out what the hell that number is. It'll get you some practice researching."

"She's on restriction," Dean said. "She's grounded from anything that has to do with hunting."

"We need to figure out who the goddess is and make sure she can't get to Jessie. You said so yourself, Dean," Sam said.

Dean pulled into the spot in front of the motel room and turned the car off. "Yeah, and we're on a case, and I'm going to be gone soon. Fine." He turned to look at me. "You bring us everything you find and you run by us anything you want to do, understand me?

"Yes, Dean," I said. "I'll make sure you know everything I do." I smiled. Finally, something to do and permission to do it. See, I could behave myself for more than ten minutes!

We all headed into the room, but Sam decided to head to the library downtown while Dean researched the victim, Ben Waters, on the laptop. Normally I would have begged to go along with Sam, but I knew the answer was no, and I was trying my hardest to stay on their good sides. I flopped down on my bed and pulled out my cards, playing solitaire while I thought about everything I knew about the goddess.

Eventually, Sam came back from the library and stretched out on his bed while he waited for Dean to finish his research. Dean told him that the girl who had been talking the Ben Waters on the phone was Linda, Ben's high school girlfriend who had died in a car crash. Linda was cremated, though, so it didn't make sense that she was a ghost. Sam said that the phone number on the caller ID was from a century ago, when phones had cranks, but that they should trace it. The best bet was at the phone company.

It was getting late, though, so they decided to call it quits for the night, get some food, and pick it up the next day.

"Does that mean I can start looking into the goddess now?" I asked, pushing my half-finished solitaire game into a pile.

"After dinner, sweetheart," Dean said. "Let's go."

The guys were good to their word and as soon as we got back to the room, they let me have the laptop. I immediately started using Google and Wikipedia and some more obscure research sites that I'd seen Sam go to.

It took forever. I wasn't very good at research and by the time Dean was telling me to wrap it up and go to bed, I'd only managed to get a vague idea of why of all the fire goddesses, they had narrowed it down to either Vesta or Gabija. It was going to take me a while to wrap my head around all the information I was reading and figure out how to tell what information was useful and what wasn't. I'll tell you what, though, images of the goddesses really didn't help. They were all man-made statues or paintings, and none of them looked like any of the rest of them. Besides, these were what people thought the goddesses looked like, not what they actually looked like. Frustrated, I was beginning to wonder if there was a way to call the goddess to me. Then I could just ask her who she was and I wouldn't have to do all this work. I knew that wasn't an option though.

After burning through some charcoal and getting ready for bed, I told Dean and Sam what I'd found, which was nothing.

"How do you guys find things so fast?" I complained. "There's all this text and I can't even tell what I'm looking for?"

Sam smiled at me. "We have a bit more experience than you do, but if you want, I can give you some tips tomorrow." He stood up and went over to his laptop bag, pulling out a folder. He handed it to me. Inside was my write up of my dream. "You should reread this. It might help you remember what you're looking for."

I took the folder from him and tucked it into my butterfly bag; then I climbed into bed. Sam came over and kissed me good night. Dean did too, pulling the covers up to my chin. "You were very good today, sweetheart. I'm proud of you."

I beamed under his praise, sat up, and threw my arms around him. "Thanks, Dean," I said. He hugged me and then tucked me back in and said good night.

Dean shook me awake the next morning. "Jessie, let's go. You're riding with us today." I climbed out of bed and got dressed. They were wearing suits with the idea of heading to the phone company and getting the century-old number traced. I knew I was going to be stuck in the car for that, but first was breakfast.

On our way out of the diner, I asked, "Can you guys drop me at the library so I can look in some of the mythology books there?"

"No," Sam said. I was surprised. After they'd let me use the laptop last night, I'd been almost positive that they'd let me go to the library.

"You're on restriction, little girl," Dean said. "You know the rules."

"I thought," I started, but Sam interrupted.

"There's a difference between supervised use of a laptop to research an important case and letting you loose alone in a library all day while we drive around and question people. You're with us today," Sam explained.

"But," I started again.

"End of discussion," Dean said, and I could tell he meant it.

Sam turned around in his seat. "Here's what I want you to do. I'll give you a notepad. Write down all of the distinguishing features of your goddess and your dream in a list. Then, write down the traits of Vesta and Gabija. Later, I'll help you do a comparison."

I looked at him dubiously. "Ok, I'll try," I said, "but I don't have the sites I was looking up yesterday."

"Start with what you do remember. You can flesh it out later this afternoon."

I spent the time they were in the phone company working on the list. I'd brought the folder with me hoping that they'd agree to me going to the library, so I had that to start with. I was worried that I might have forgotten some things that had happened in the dream, but there was nothing I could do about that. The bread, salt, hearth, and water thing seemed pretty important, so I made sure I put that at the top of the list. The only thing was, I couldn't really remember any of the traits of the two goddesses I'd looked up the previous night. It was just going to have to wait until we got back to the room.

The guys came out of the phone company after a couple of hours. They each had a list of names to talk to. Turned out that the number they traced had called ten different houses in the last week. The guys decided to split up to trace the number. We stopped at a rental place to rent a car for Sam, and then I tagged along with Dean as he started tracking down his list.

We were on the last person, an 84-year-old lady, and when Dean came back to the car, he was on the phone with Sam. He hung up as he opened the car door. Then his phone rang again right away. He flipped it back open and said, "Yeah, what? Sam?" then he paused and said, "Dad?"

My eyes got wide. I still didn't have a lot of the backstory on my new family, but I knew Dean's dad was dead. I knew he'd sold his soul to save Dean from dying, because it was one of the things that Sam had brought up when arguing with Dean in front of me, usually when he thought I was asleep. Dean stood there for a second and then flipped the phone closed, staring at it in a mixture of shock and disbelief.


	32. Chapter 32 - Call Me

**Just a reminder: I don't own these characters or the episodes I'm inserting Jessie into. Only Jessie and her goddess story line are mine. Thanks for reading and reviewing, whether praise or criticism. **

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"Dean?" I asked. He shook his head and got into the car. "Is everything ok?"

"I don't know," he said. "Let's get back to the room so I can talk to Sam."

We got there first. Dean changed into his normal clothes. "Can I use the laptop again for the part of the research I'm doing?"

"Yeah," Dean said. He sat down on the bed and buried his face in his hands. I wished there was anything in the world I could do to make Dean feel better, but I had no idea what it was. I walked over to him and put my arms around him. He pulled me into his embrace for a moment and then let me go. "Go. Go work on your research," he said, but he looked a little better.

I had the notepad out and was writing out the traits and information that I had on Gabija and Vesta when Sam got back. Dean told him about the phone call. Dean was really upset. He didn't know how to react or what to do, and Sam didn't have any answers for him. Dean got annoyed and left.

I looked at Sam. "Up," he said, standing up from the bed where he'd been sitting. "My turn."

I relinquished the computer without complaint, scooting over to make room for Sam on the couch. "Is he going to be ok?" I asked.

"I don't know, Jessie. I'm sure he will be, once we figure out what's going on here." He bookmarked my sites for me and started doing his own research. I sat next to him and watched. He read so quickly, and he looked things up that I never would have thought of. I made notes in my goddess notepad, determined to move them over to my hunting notebook later, but I didn't want to take the time to go and get it now. If Sam realized that I was looking over his shoulder, he might shoo me off.

Dean came back three hours later, and Sam hadn't found any reason for anything supernatural to be happening in the town. Dean smugly tossed down a pamphlet to the Edison Museum. Apparently, there was a phone that Edison had made to try to contact the spirit world. Dean thought that it might be causing the problems.

"Let's go," Sam said, getting up.

"Can I come?" I asked, hopefully. They looked at each other, clearly undecided. "It's educational?" I suggested.

Dean shook his head. "No. We're already letting you do too much with this research on the goddess. You're staying here."

"It's not fair," I objected, standing up. I knew there was no point in arguing, but I couldn't seem to help myself.

"It's not fair?" Dean asked. "I'd say we're being more than fair, little girl. If you want to push, we can take away the research, too."

I glared at him. I knew arguing would just get me into more trouble and I'd lose my research privileges. I tried to get control over my temper, telling myself that I could use the time to see if I could get out a little more information about the goddesses with the notes I took. "Ok," I finally said, looking away from him. "I'll stay."

Dean wasn't satisfied. "What are you not allowed to do while we're not here and you're on restriction?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

I sighed. "Come on, Dean; I know the rules!"

"I asked you a question, Jessie," he said sternly.

"Fine!" I said, suppressing the urge to stamp my foot. "Don't leave the room, make sure my phone is on me, no TV, no radio, no laptop, no game boy, no books." I crossed my arms over my chest, imitating Dean.

"Lose the attitude," Dean said, giving me one final stern look, but then he said, "Come here and hug me goodbye."

So I hugged them both, and Sam ruffled my hair before leaving. A trip to a museum would have been fun. Yeah, I know, nerd stuff, but I kinda liked old things and knowing about them. It was like a story, trying to imagine what life was like back before laptops and when phones were all wired and clunky as hell. I supposed I'd brought it on myself, and I ought to be glad that they were letting me do as much as they were, but it was still frustrating.

I picked up my notepad and dropped onto my bed, staring at the pages. Both goddesses were goddesses of the fire and the hearth. In both instances, fire was considered sacred and the goddesses had fires dedicated to them and protected for them. In both instances, food was tossed into the fire as a sacrifice to the goddess, although Vesta apparently also had human sacrifices made to her regularly by the Vestal Virgins.

The thing that got me though was that Vesta was a Roman goddess and Gabija was a Lithuanian goddess. There was nothing Roman about my dream. I mean, now that I was remembering it, I'd been dressed in some kind of Heidi-looking outfit, although not exactly. The house wasn't Roman columns or blocks of stone; it was a cottage made of wood or natural stone. I mean, I suppose the Italians could have had wood or stone cottages. I really didn't know enough to say for sure.

It was so confusing. I noted down everything I'd been thinking and added to the write up of the dream. I'd left out that part about the Heidi-looking dress.

That's when my phone rang. It wasn't Sam or Dean's ringtone, but only a few people had my number, so I just picked it up. "Hello?"

"Jessie?" my mom said. "Oh Jessie, it's so good to hear your voice."

Something jumped inside me. I froze, unsure how to react, and then I said, "Mom?"

"I miss you so much, darling," Mom said. "Are you ok?"

"Is it really you, Mommy?" I asked. "I thought… you're dead. The goddess, she burned you up to make me a firestarter."

"I know, darling. I am dead. I'm on the other side. I'm calling you from heaven."

I lay down on the bed and pulled my knees up to my chest. I couldn't say anything. The pain inside me was too much.

"Are you there, my darling girl?" she asked.

"Yes," I whispered into the phone. "Mom, I miss you. I miss you so bad. I'm so sorry about what happened."

"I know. I miss you, too. Your dad is here too. He loves you."

"Dad is?" I asked. "You're both in heaven?" There was some relief in that, but not much. My stomach was in ropes. I fought against tears and lost.

"Yes, darling. We're both in heaven and we miss you," she said. "We love …" And then it was just static.

"Mom?" I said into the phone, my voice starting quiet but rising as I continued until I was screaming. "Mom? Mommy? Mom!" I dropped the phone on the bed and started sobbing into my pillow, my notes and thoughts on the goddess forgotten.

By the time Sam and Dean got back, I had cried myself out. I couldn't seem to think, though. I felt so numb. I didn't know whether I should tell them or not. It didn't seem like they could do anything about it. It was just another instance of, as they put it, 'stiffs calling houses all over town.' I was just another victim, and I didn't have any new information. I sat on the bed in the farthest corner where it was pressed against the walls and hugged my knees to my chest. I felt sick with grief. I missed my mom so bad and the phone call had just brought it all back.

They were discussing the spirit phone when they walked in. I didn't look up, just kept staring at the horrible bedspreads on their beds. They finished their discussion, and Dean said, "How about we hit that burger place on Main for dinner? What do you say, Jessie? Jessie?"

I dragged my eyes up from the bedspread and looked at him, feeling blank inside. It took effort to speak. "Ok," I said.

Dean cocked his head and Sam looked concerned. "What happened, sweetheart?" Dean asked, coming over to my bed. Sam followed suit.

I had to steel myself to speak again. "Nothing. Goddess research."

"Did the goddess contact you?" Sam asked. Dean's eyes were flicking all around the room. I shook my head. Then Dean's eyes landed on my phone, which I had tucked in the space between my heels and my butt. He bent over and picked it up, flipping it open and pressing buttons. He snorted and showed Sam the screen. Sam looked appalled.

Dean sat down on my bed and pulled me to him, cuddling me in his lap. "Who called you, sweetheart?"

"Mom," I whispered.

"What did she say?" Dean prompted, rubbing my back.

"She misses me. She loves me. She's in heaven," I said.

"That doesn't sound so bad," Dean said.

"Why is she calling me, Dean?" I cried, grabbing his shirt and sobbing into it. "It hurts so much."

"Shh, sweetheart, shh," he soothed. He held me close to him and rubbed my back.

Sam sat down on my bed next to Dean and said, "Jessie, we don't even know for sure that it is your mom. We don't know what's going on here yet."

"So it might not have been her?" My stomach jerked and I wasn't sure if I like that option any better; although, to be honest, it made me angry. If someone was messing with me, causing this kind of pain for no reason, I'd make them pay.

"It might not," Sam said, but I caught a glimpse of Dean giving Sam a glare out of the corner of my eye. "We just don't know."

I could think better now, between the comfort from Sam and Dean and the anger that someone might be messing with me, and other people, by calling them and pretending to be their loved ones. If it was my mom, then I'd find out what she wanted and try to help her. If it wasn't, someone was going to die in a fire.

"You want to go eat?" Dean asked me. I nodded and climbed out of bed to get ready, feeling drained and empty but a little better now that I had a plan.

The next morning, I woke up to Dean telling Sam about that call he'd gotten from his dad the night before. Sam listened dubiously and then took off to go to the library.

I climbed out of bed and got dressed. Grabbing one of the breakfast sandwiches that they had saved for me, I plopped down next to Dean on the couch. "What are you looking up?" I asked, biting into my sandwich.

"Demonic omens. Dad says the demon who holds my contract is following me and is here." He didn't look up from the screen. I curled up closer to him and watched him as he clicked through screens and typed in search words. His style of researching things was less methodical than Sam's was, but still very effective.

After a while, he went to lean back and kinda bumped into me. That's when he realized that I was still there, and turned his head to look at me, his eyebrows raised.

"What?" I asked, swallowing my last bite of breakfast and uncurling myself a little so that one socked foot was on the floor.

"You're on restriction," he pointed out. "Go sit on your bed."

I pouted a little. "Sam let me watch him research," I said.

"Do I look like Sam?" he asked me, tilting his head a little.

I sighed, knowing I shouldn't push it. "Fine," I grouched. I uncurled myself entirely and got off the couch. I fetched my cards from my butterfly backpack and went to sit on my bed and play solitaire.

A couple hours later Sam got back and he and Dean argued over whether the demon was really there and if their dad was really calling. Their arguments always made my stomach hurt and this time was no different. At the end, they'd once again come to no resolution, and after pleading with Dean not to leave the room, Sam left to go talk to one of the victims, a girl named Lanie.

Dean sat down at the table, looking angry and annoyed. I left him alone, not wanting to push him at a time like this. He sat there for about a half hour, just thinking, while I played solitaire. I think he may have forgotten I was even there.

When his phone rang, I jumped. He glanced at me and went outside to talk. A few minutes later, he came back in and gathered up some stuff. I stood up. "Should I come?" I asked.

Distracted, he shook his head. "You stay here. Behave yourself." He slammed out of the room. I stared after him and then went to the window and watched him drive away. I stared down the empty street for a couple of seconds, confused and concerned, and then my phone rang.

I snatched it up from my bed and flipped it open. "Hello?"

"My darling girl," my mom's voice trilled.

"Mom," I whispered, a wash of grief pouring over me. "Mom, why are you calling me?" I asked, my voice tight and forced as I struggled against completely losing myself in tears.

"Your goddess, the one that killed us, we know who she is. We want to help you stop her," she said.

My heart leapt. "You do?"

"Of course," she said, her voice soothing and sweet, just like when she used to tell me she'd help me with my homework or to make cupcakes for my Brownie troop. "It's very simple," she said. "Your goddess is a fire goddess. What puts out fire, my darling?"

"Water," I whispered.

"Exactly," she purred. "All you have to do is walk into the water and call your fire to you. The water will drench you and it, and your goddess will be powerless again. And we can be together, the three of us, a family again."

"Together?" I asked. "Will I die?"

"Come to me, my darling," she said, and then she was gone.

"Mom?" I whispered.


	33. Chapter 33 - The Struggle Within

I couldn't speak past the tears jamming my throat and I couldn't see past the tears in my eyes. I curled onto the bed and sobbed until I'd cried myself out. I didn't know how long I'd cried. My mother missed me; she wanted us to be together again, a family with me, my dad, and her. And by doing so, I could stop the goddess. She'd be powerless. All I needed was some water.

The bathtub was right out. I knew my strength. No way would the water in the bathtub be enough to put out my fire. Where could I find a lake or a reservoir?

I sat down in front of the laptop and opened Google Maps. In minutes, I had located a park with a lake in it, close by, and knew how to get there. I tucked my phone in my back pocket and left the room.

It was dark outside. Google Maps had said that it would take four minutes by car to get there. I wasn't sure how long it would take me to walk it, and that was just to the entrance of the park. I felt sick inside and exhausted. The old guilt over my parents' deaths had risen up inside me like a ghost that had never left. I told myself again that the goddess had said she'd killed them, and I told myself again that it wasn't my fault, I hadn't invited her into my life, but I was the reason they were dead. If my mother wanted to stop the goddess and to have me at her side in heaven, who was I to say no? This was my family, my mother we were talking about. Anyone would do the same.

Except I didn't want to die.

It was a long walk and the air outside was freezing cold. March in Ohio is not the warmest month. I clutched my jacket around me and trudged on. I loved my new family. Sam and Dean had done everything they could to take me in and keep me safe and show me that they loved me. They would be heartbroken if I died.

But it was my mom…

And things would be easier on the guys if I wasn't around, right?

I reached the entrance way to the park and hung a right, following the parks small roads to the lake within. Damp air gusted across the cold lake and chilled me through my coat. My phone buzzed in my pocket. A text was coming in. I ignored it and walked up to the edge of the water. I thought about the goddess and about Sam and Dean and about my parents. I took a deep breath to strengthen my resolve. Leaving my clothes on with the hopes that they would help keep me under, I walked into the water, tears streaming down my face.

My clothes absorbed the water as I walked, and I shivered as the freezing water touched me. I needed to hurry or I'd get too cold and not be able to open the furnace. When the water reached my chest, I dove forward under the water.

My clothes were not heavy enough to sink me, but they were heavy enough to weigh me down. I struggled to swim towards the center of the lake and when I was far enough in that I could no longer touch or see the bottom of the lake, I took a deep breath and went to duck my head under water.

"Jessie!" I heard right before my head hit the water. I turned to see two dark figures at the edge of the water, near where I'd walked in.

"Jessie! Get out of the lake!" Dean hollered at me.

"It's ok!" I yelled back. "I'm going to get rid of the goddess!" I took a deep breath and ducked my head under water.

I opened my furnace and pushed the fire into the water. The lake went up in steam around me and billowed into the sky, but it didn't hurt me. I pushed again and again

"Jessie!" I heard Sam this time through whoosh of the steam as the water evaporated around me. "It wasn't your mom! Whatever she told you won't work! You're going to drown for nothing!"

I was empty. I stopped pushing and lifted my head above the water as it faded back to freezing. It was time to let the water take me, to stop the goddess. It didn't matter if it wasn't my mom. If I died, the goddess wouldn't have any power here. What she had told me made sense. It didn't matter. I had to stop her, didn't I?

I heard a splash towards the shore. Dean was wading into the water. Panic struck me. "No! Dean! You'll drown. It's too cold for you!"

He paused, the water up to his knees. "Then get your ass over here. Now, little girl!" I couldn't see his face through the darkness, but I recognized that tone. If I didn't move it, I'd be in so much trouble.

Relief washed over me as the decision of whether or not to follow through on stopping the goddess was that neatly taken away. I stopped treading water and started trying to swim back to him. My coat and boots held me back. I struggled out of the coat, but the boots were laced on tightly. My strength was giving out.

"Dean!" I screamed. "Help! I can't swim back!" The water was threatening to pull me under. My head went under once and again. I fought to stay afloat.

And then he had me. His arms were under my armpits and he was kicking us backwards towards the edge of the lake. I kicked too, helping move us along in the water. When we reached shallower water, I was able to get to my feet and Dean helped me walk the rest of the way to shore. Sam grabbed me and pulled me into a hug.

"You'll get wet," I objected weakly.

"I don't care," Sam said, holding me close.

The short ride back to the motel was silent. I wasn't sure if it was exhaustion or anger, or if they just wanted time to think, but the silence was killing me.

The silence was over the minute we walked into the motel room, Sam and Dean behind me, where they could keep me in their sights. "What the hell were you thinking?" Dean growled at me as we walked through the door. "I told you to stay here. You know you're not supposed to leave the room when you're on restriction."

Sam closed the door behind us and I turned around. "My mom called me. She called me! What was I supposed to do?" I cried. Oblivious to my wet clothes, I sat down on the corner of my bed and stared at my hiking boots.

"What were you supposed to do?!" Dean shouted. "You were supposed to obey us! You were supposed to stay in the goddamned room and wait for us to get back. You were supposed to run everything you found out about the goddess by us! Instead, you listen to some Crocotta, not your mother by the way, and run down to the nearest lake to drown yourself to kill the goddess. I can damn well guarantee that wouldn't have worked. You don't kill goddesses by drowning their priestesses!"

"Dean," Sam said quietly.

I burst into tears. "I'm sorry." I buried my face in my hands and sobbed.

"Did you even think about any of that or did you just run off half-cocked?" Dean demanded, his brow furrowed and his head tilted. "Did you even think about calling us or waiting for us? Or did the fact that it was your mother's voice on the other end of the line outweigh everything we've taught you over the last eight months?"

"Dean," Sam said, more forcefully this time.

"What, Sam?" Dean snapped, turning away from me. Sam pulled him off towards the bathroom. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but the words 'same thing' floated back to me. Dean rolled his eyes and shrugged his shoulders. They whispered for another minute and then Dean said, "Fine, ok. Jeez. Nag."

Sam sat down on his bed and Dean came back over to stand in front of me. "Look, Jessie, I get it. I do. You heard your mom's voice. She was offering you the chance to solve all your problems and you took it. The thing I don't understand is why the hell you didn't call us, text us, or try to contact us in any way before you ran off to do it."

Leaning with my elbows on my knees, I looked up at him from under my bangs. "I thought that I'd be solving some of your problems. I mean, she said they wanted me with them up there in heaven, and I thought…" I swallowed hard. "I thought I'd be saving you some trouble here. I did force you to bring me with you. It's not like you ever really wanted me."

"Of all the… Did you really think that you could make us bring you with us?" Dean hollered. "Don't you think that if we didn't want you here with us, you'd be back at Bobby's or in a social workers' office?"

I sat up a little more and lifted my head. "I made you take me. I ran off and said I wouldn't stay anywhere else. I made you keep me."

Sam got up and came around to stand next to Dean. "No, Jessie. You ran off and gave us an excuse to keep something we wanted. You gave us the reason we needed to not send away a little girl that we'd come to love and care for, a little girl who has become part of our family."

Dean sat down next to me and put his arm around me. "Jessie, you are our family. We always want you. We want you as much as your dad and your mom did, and they were raising you in a much less crazy situation."

Sam sat down on the other side of me. "We're not going to abandon you and we don't want you to leave us. We most certainly don't want you dead. Do you understand? You're ours."

"And you're not getting rid of us that easily, so knock it off. Got it?" Dean said.

Something tight inside me let go and I nodded, relief flooding me. "Yes."

"Go shower and get ready for bed," Dean said. "You're freezing and it will warm you up. Sammy, how about ordering some pizza?"

I got up, grabbed my clothes bag, and headed towards the bathroom. As I reached the door, I turned and said, "How'd you know where to find me?"

Dean didn't pause in the process of taking off his wet shirt. "You left it up on the laptop, but we'll talk about that when you're out of the shower."

I stepped into the bathroom and closed the door. That did not bode well for me.

When I came out of the bathroom, Dean was dressed in dry clothes and sitting on his bed watching television and drinking a beer with Sam. He turned the TV off and beckoned to me. I went without a fuss.

"Why are you in trouble?" He asked me as I stood in front of him.

Some devil inside me piped up. "Because you don't consider half-drowning to be enough of a punishment?" I asked.

"If you want to be a smart ass, we can do this again after I've washed your mouth out with soap. Is that what you want?" Dean said, looking at me with his eyebrows raised.

"No, Dean," I whispered.

"That's good because I don't want it either. Now, tell me why you're in trouble."

I shrugged, not looking at him. The number of things I'd done wrong seemed too long to list out. "I dunno," I said.

"All right," Dean said. "You left the room without permission. You didn't tell us everything you knew about the goddess. You didn't let us know where you were going. Does that about cover it?"

I nodded, still not looking at him.

"You broke the rules that keep you safe. If you had followed even one of the rules, calling us, waiting for us to come back, or staying the room, you would have been in danger. You wouldn't have ended up in that lake," he said. "You keep getting upset and running off. If you would just take a minute to think about the consequences of your actions, you wouldn't keep ending up in these situations."

"I can't help it," I said, quietly.

"You can, and you'll keep ending up right here until you start thinking before you act. Come here," he said. "Let's get this over with." He pulled me to him and yanked my PJs down, but left my panties up. Then he tilted me over his lap and started spanking. After several hard swats, I started crying. After the tenth, I threw my hand back to block my butt, but he moved it up to the small of my back, and kept going. The smacks covered the entirety of my behind, from the top all the way down to where cheek met thigh. One arm trapped, I sobbed into the bedspread until he was done.

But when he was done, he pulled up my PJs and sat me on his lap, pulling me close to him and hugging me. "You're my little girl," he said. "Don't forget it, and do a better job of keeping yourself safe for me ok?"

"Yes, Dean," I said. He held me for a while, and turned the television back on. When the pizza guy knocked on the door, Dean handed me to Sam to hold while Dean paid for the pizza.

Sam let me rest my head where his shoulder met his chest and held me to him. "Ditto what Dean said," Sam said, smiling down at me and dropping a kiss on the top of my head. "Brat."

I smiled and climbed off his lap to go get some pizza.


	34. Chapter 34 - Walk the Line

Knees to my chest, I sat with my back to the cabin door and listened to the demon screaming. I was supposed to be in the car with the doors and windows shut while the guys 'talked' to the demon they had captured, but my curiosity had gotten the better of me and I'd crept out of the car to listen by the front door of the abandoned cabin. Dean's contract was up in three weeks and the guys were determined to get the name of the demon who held the contract before time ran out.

I wasn't so sure they were going to make it.

The demon screamed again. I flinched and considered getting back into the car, but I wanted to know. I knew all they were doing was squirting holy water on the guy. It didn't even hurt the victim, just the demon inside, but it still hurt to hear. I took a deep breath. If I wanted to be a hunter, I was going to have to learn these things, to be able to both hear them and do them, and I wanted to be a hunter more than anything.

I heard Sam start the exorcism ritual and realized that I could actually understand some of it now. With my schoolwork being done for the year and me finally off restriction, Sam had started teaching me Latin. I listened to him for a minute and then realized that if he was reciting the exorcism ritual, I needed to get my butt back in the car. I unfolded myself, moved quietly to the car, and got in, watching the door to the abandoned cabin.

Eventually, Dean came out carrying the body of the demon's victim. He headed around the cabin towards the woods behind. I got out of the car, carrying my blanket with me, and went inside, quietly shutting the front door. Sam was cleaning up the main room of the cabin.

"Dean say you could come in?" Sam asked, setting a chair back against the wall without looking at me.

I leaned nervously against the doorway. "No, but I thought it would be ok since he left with the body."

Sam shook his head, finally turning to look at me. "You're supposed to stay there until one of us comes and gets you."

I rubbed the back of my neck and looked at the floor. "I know, but you were done and it's kinda cold…"

Sam relented. "Come on, you can sit near the fire," he said coming over to me and leading me to the couch. I curled up in the middle of the couch and covered myself with the blanket, watching him. It was late, and the warmth of the blanket and the fire seeped into me. I dozed off.

I woke up when Sam sat down next to me on the couch. "So, you think your fire goddess is Gabija?" he asked, wrapping his arm around me and pulling me close to him.

I tucked my legs under me and leaned against his chest. "Yeah, I looked up the traditional dress like you suggested, and the dresses for Lithuania matched better than the dresses for Italy." I ran my fingers through my hair and tugged on a tendril when I reached the end. It was down to the middle of my chest now. "Plus, the house was in the middle of a field of corn and there were cows, and cows and corn are Gabby symbols."

Sam smirked. "Gabby, huh? I bet she'd love that nickname. Have you found any way to get rid of her?"

I shrugged. "No. It seems like everyone wanted her around. She was, I mean is, the goddess of the hearth, and I guess fire was a big deal way back when."

"Yeah, but there's always a way to get rid of them…" Sam's phone rang, interrupting him. He got up to get it from the table and paced the middle of the room while he spoke to the person on the other end. As Sam finished the call, Dean came in, raising his eyebrows when he saw me but not saying anything. He grabbed a beer and sat down next to me. I leaned against him as he and Sam talked. As Dean's time got shorter and shorter, I'd started feeling a little desperate, and I took advantage of any chance I could to be near him.

Sam outlined a case where a guy had shown up in the ER with his liver ripped out and covered with the bloody fingerprints of a guy who had died in 1981. Suddenly, we were on a hunt. We packed up our stuff and got into the car to head to Erie, Pennsylvania.

I spent part of the drive there thinking about Gabby. Goddesses have powers, right? I wondered briefly if they had more powers than demons. She wasn't a major goddess, at least not according to my research. She was a minor goddess, a house goddess, albeit a popular one. All Lithuanian women worshiped her at one time in order to protect their house from fire. There was so little online or even documented in the books I'd read. Could she keep Dean from hell? Maybe fight off the hellhounds that were coming for him?

Was it possible that if I asked for her help keeping Dean from hell that she would do it, if I agreed to be her servant? Dean had already said that Ruby couldn't, but Ruby was only a demon and a demon held his contract. If she was more powerful than a demon, maybe she could keep Dean from hell. I could always back out later.

My thoughts were whirling by the time we checked into The Erie hotel. It was early morning and the guys needed to sleep still. As they tucked me in, I thought about asking them, but discarded that thought for the moment. It was too soon. I had more thinking, more research to do. I'd ask them later, maybe tomorrow.

The next day, I woke up before the guys did. I unpacked Sam's laptop and turned it on, pulling up the bookmarked information I had on Gabby and starting to read through it again, looking for as much information as possible on what her powers were. I made notes on my goddess notepad.

My first indication that anyone else was up was Sam picking up my notepad from under my elbow. "What're you looking up, squirt?"

"Gabby," I said. "I'm trying to figure out the kinds of powers she has, but there's not a whole lot out there. Mostly it's just that she can set things on fire. She protected homes from thieves and demons, too, but it doesn't say how."

"Ok, why?" Sam asked, flipping through the pages of the notebook.

"Thought she might be able to keep Dean from going to hell," I said absently, my eyes skimming the page in front of me.

Sam reached over my head and shut the laptop. "No," he said, his voice dropping a register. I turned around in the chair. His eyes were narrow and his nostrils were flaring a little.

I swallowed, but said, "Why?"

"Because we don't know enough about her," Sam said, meeting my eyes and holding my gaze. "We have no idea what will happen the next time you see her or if you summon her somehow."

Dean came out of the bathroom and took note of our positions. "What's going on?" he asked, his eyes flicking from me to Sam and back.

"Jessie here thinks it's a good idea to ask her goddess for help to keep you from hell," Sam said, not looking away from me. I dropped my eyes and looked away.

"No," Dean said, coming over to me. "Absolutely not. No."

"Dean," I said, looking up at him pleadingly.

"No. I'm not having this argument with you. The answer is no. End of discussion." Dean crossed his arms over his chest and glared down at me.

"Ok," I whispered, giving in.

Dean nodded once and turned to Sam. "Come on. Let's get going. Jessie, get dressed. You're coming to the morgue with us."

I stood up and went to dig my clothes out of my clothes bag. "You're gonna be police. Police don't drag their eleven-year-old kids around with them," I said, echoing what they always told me. Dean leveled a look at me and I subsided. "Ok, ok," I grumped, heading into the bathroom to get ready.

I stayed in the car when we got to the hospital morgue. I'd brought along the goddess notebook tucked inside the Latin book Sam had gotten me. While they were talking to the coroner, I poked through the notes I'd taken on Gabby. Even though the guys had said no, I still wanted to talk to her, just to ask her. I didn't have to agree to anything. I just wanted to speak with her.

There was always the dream root, which would let me talk to her in a dream, but Gabby could be summoned to protect your house as well. All you had to do was throw an offering in the fire of bread and salt and say "Sacred Gabija be satisfied." Bread, salt, and clean water were supposed to be left at the hearth, and when you set them out, you were supposed to say, "Bathe and rest, oh fiery one." When you put the fire out, you were supposed to put it out with pure, clean water and cover it with ashes so the fire wouldn't stray.

I considered which one I wanted to do. If I made tea of the dream root, then I could get away from her simply by waking up, but I'd have to sneak into the trunk of the car to do it. If I called her to me in person, I wasn't sure what she would do or how to get rid of her.

I was lost in thought, so when Dean opened the car door, I jumped and dropped the notebook on the floor. They were too busy discussing the case to notice, though. I scrambled to pick it up and shove it into the Latin book again.

Once we were back in the room and the guys had changed out of their suits, Sam dove into making more phone calls and researching the case, and Dean headed out to pick up some food. I asked to go with him and when we drove through the nearest fast food place, I ordered a hamburger with fries and asked for a salt pack and a bottle of water.

While Dean ate, Sam said that the body had been found sutured with silk and stuffed full of maggots, which was how surgeons back at the turn of the century handled infections. While Sam tried to gross Dean out as much as possible, I peeled the top bun off my hamburger and wrapped it and the salt pack in the wrapper.

Sam pulled out John's journal and floated the theory to Dean that the guy who was harvesting organs from people was Doc Benton, who John Winchester had killed back when the guys were kids. The doctor had found the secret to living forever, but as his organs and body parts wear out he had to replace them, which he did by killing people and taking their parts. While they discussed it, I finished the rest of my hamburger and then tucked the wrapper and the bottle of water in my school bag.

I thought the dream root was probably the better way to go. At least I knew that I could get away from her by waking up. I needed a reason to go out to the car and I needed to brew the dream root, all without Sam or Dean noticing. I sat down on my roll-away bed and looked at the two of them as they discussed strategy.

"Dean," I said. "I left my phone in the car. Can I have the keys?" Dean nodded shortly and dug the keys out of his pocket, tossing them to me. I caught them and headed down to the car.

The car was parked behind the hotel. I opened the trunk and lifted the false bottom. I found the tiny package of dream root that the guys had left. I looked around to make sure no one was watching. Digging a little further, I found the mortar and pestle the guys had tucked away. I wiped out the bowl and crushed about half an inch of the dream root to bits, storing the ground up bits in a baggie. I wiped the bowl out again and tucked it and the dream root back where I found them. I looked around again as I dropped the false bottom back into place and shoved the baggie into my pocket. I slammed shut the trunk. Now for the boiling water.

I pulled the phone out of my pocket and called Dean. "Can I go to the gas station across the street and get some hot chocolate?"

"No," he said, sounding distracted. "Get back up here."

"Come on, Dean," I said. "I just want something sweet and hot…"

"Jessie, now," Dean said and hung up.

I stared at my phone and considered disobeying. Then I sighed and headed back into the hotel. I was going to have to figure something else out.

The guys were still planning and researching. I whiled away the evening watching television and then spent a little more time reading. I canvassed the room a little and realized that I had options here after all. To make the dream root tea, I had to steep the dream root in boiling water for two minutes. We had a little four-cup coffee maker in the corner of the room and next to it were little packets of coffee and a couple of tea bags. I had a plan.

At eight-thirty, Dean took me back outside to burn some charcoal in the parking lot behind the hotel. I rushed through it as quickly as possible. When we came back upstairs, he sat down back down at the table and said, "Jessie, get ready for bed."

"Can I have tea before bed?" I asked, prying off my shoes.

Dean looked up from the map he was studying. "Since when do you drink tea?" he asked. Sam looked up from his dad's journal.

I glared at Dean, knowing I had to take the offensive. "Well you wouldn't let me have any stupid hot chocolate," I griped. "I told you I wanted something hot and sweet."

"Jessie, lose the attitude," he said and then sighed. "Yeah, fine, whatever." He looked back to his map. Sam studied me for another minute and looked away. I turned my head and hid a smile. Success.

I rushed to get ready for bed. When I was all ready to get into bed, I snuck the baggie out of the pocket of my jeans and carried it over to the little coffee pot. I poured a cup's worth of water into the coffee maker and put the dream root in the bottom of the coffee pot. Then I turned the pot on and sat and watched it brew. Once it had brewed, I watched the little clock on the bottom of the pot until it said that two minutes had passed. I poured the tea into a cup and rinsed out the pot. I dumped a bunch of sugar in with the tea and carried it over to my bed.

I climbed in and drank the tea down. I struggled to remain awake long enough to set the cup on the floor. Then I was out.


	35. Chapter 35 - Ring of Fire

_"You've returned to me," Gabija said. She was standing next to the hearth, a bright fire merrily burning. She was dressed in the same red dress with the same red kerchief over her light brown hair. A quick glance down and I saw that I was also dressed the same as I had been in the last dream._

_I bowed my head respectfully, the wreath of flowers on my head shifting and pulling my hair a bit. "Sacred Gabija, be satisfied," I said. When I lifted my head again, she was beaming._

_"Indeed, my child," she said, a smile breaking across her face and turning her from beautiful to blinding. "Indeed. I am most happy to see you and that you have decided to stop fighting me."_

_I swallowed against the retort that rose to my lips. Respectful. I had to remain respectful. "Actually, my goddess, I am not quite certain. I do not understand what you want from me."_

_"You are to be my incarnation on earth," Gabija said, stepping towards me. _

_"What… what does that mean exactly?" I asked. "Do you take over my body?"_

_Gabija laughed. "Take over the body of a child? No, no my dear. You will simply be my priestess, my acolyte on earth. You will spread and lead my worship, you will teach my rituals, you will perform my rites. You will be the rod and whip of my anger. My power will grow through you until I may manifest at will." Her bright face glowed, her voice filled with pleasure and warmth, but a deep ache of cold burned my core._

_"I… uh… I don't know if I can do that," I whispered, dread flowing over me. This wasn't good. I wasn't entirely sure what she meant by rituals and rites, but if they gave her power, it couldn't be good. "I mean, what do I get out of it?"_

_"Foolish child," she said fondly, "you will have such power, power over life and death."_

_I rubbed the back of my neck. I needed to get to my point and get the hell out of here before she forced me into something I didn't want to do. "I don't want that kind of power," I said._

_Her eyes snapped. "Everyone wants that kind of power," she said. Her skin glowed brighter and I could barely stand to look at her. I wondered briefly if that was what I looked like right before I burned something._

_"I don't," I said weakly, turning my head so I was hiding behind my hair. "I just want Dean to not go to hell." I waited for a moment and then peeked through the strands when she didn't respond._

_She looked confused. "That human you are traveling with?" I nodded. "Are you asking this of me?" she asked._

_"I'm asking you to keep him from going to hell. He made a deal with a demon to save his brother and in three weeks, the demon is going to send him to hell. He's my dad now, since you burned the other one in his sleep. I don't want him to go. I'd do almost anything if he doesn't go." Tears were dripping unbidden from my cheeks. As I spoke the last word, I suddenly realized what I was doing, and I felt sick and ashamed of myself. I was begging a goddess who had killed my family to save my new one and I knew that I'd be grateful if she did it. I'd probably do anything she asked. Dean would be so angry._

_The goddess crouched down in front of me and wiped the tears from my cheeks as I fought inside not to jerk from her touch. "My child, my priestess, I cannot do what you ask. I do not have the power. I am too weak in my current state. I am sorry."_

_I burst into sobs and half-sat, half-collapsed onto the floor of the house. The goddess stroked my hair as I wept. "If you would but help me regain my power, I could do all you ask and more."_

_"I can't," I said. "I can't. He's going to die. I don't care about anything else."_

_I looked up at the goddess as a range of emotions flowed over her face until she just looked sympathetic. "I am so sorry that you had to lose your parents to gain your powers," she said, putting an arm around me. I stiffened and wanted to pull away, but I didn't dare. This creature could kill me easily, even in my dreams. "I am sorry that you are losing your new father to his own foibles. I would do anything to prevent your pain." _

_Shocked at her reaction, I watched as she stood and walked to the hearth, picking up the loaf of bread and the bowl of salt. She came back to me and set them at my side. "Remember," she said, taking a pinch of salt and a pinch of the bread and rubbing them together into crumbs in her palms. "I can teach you how to control your power. I can show you such wonderful things. Should you ever need me for that or just for comfort, throw some crumbled bread and salt in your fire and say the blessing and I will return to you in your dreams that night."_

_I looked up at her and met her kind blue eyes. "I can show you such things," she whispered. "Summon me when you are ready." She pressed her palm into my forehead._

I opened my eyes to a dark room, Sam and Dean asleep in their beds. My snowman was tucked up under my chin, my arm wrapped around it. I had so many questions. Could Gabby actually care about me? Want me to be happy? She seemed willing and eager to let me go if I didn't want to stay. It was quite a departure from my last dream. I glanced at the guys in their beds and wondered if I'd gotten away with the dream root. The cup was still under the edge of my bed, so it seemed likely. They'd been so caught up in their planning that it was possible that they hadn't noticed. I felt horribly guilty, though. They'd been adamant in their insistence that I not contact her and I'd deliberately and willfully disobeyed. If they found out, I'd be so dead and deservedly so. There was no way I was going to tell them. No way.

My eyes fell back on Dean. He was going to be gone soon. It broke my heart. If they didn't find out who held his contract then in three short weeks, I'd lose him forever. My stomach ached. I climbed out of the bed, the snowman grasped in one hand and my blanket in the other and climbed into his bed on top of his bedding. I curled up next to and facing him, covering myself with my blanket, and reached out to grab his hand. I drifted back to sleep and normal dreams.

When I woke up the next morning, both of them were up and dressed. There were fast food bags on the counter and the two of them were eating breakfast. I sat up in Dean's bed and pushed off the extra blanket that he must have put over me when he woke up.

"Hey," I said from the bed, rubbing my eyes.

"Hey, sleepy head," Sam said. "You must have been really tired yesterday. You were asleep already when we came to tuck you in."

Unable to meet his eyes, I looked away and turned to climb out of the bed, wrapping my blanket around me. "Yeah, I guess I was."

"You have a bad dream last night?" Dean asked. I went over to stand next to him and he put his arm around me.

Leaning against him, I said, "It started bad but it ended ok, I think."

"Get some breakfast and then get dressed. Sam and I have a busy day today," Dean said, patting my hip through the blanket. I pulled the blanket up a little and wandered towards the counter. They'd gotten me little mini-cinnamon buns this morning, my favorite. They didn't normally let me have them because Sam said that sugar was no way to start the day. I flushed guiltily as I realized that they must've gotten them for me because I'd climbed into Dean's bed last night and they thought that I'd had a nightmare.

They were so good to me and I'd gone and done something they told me not to. My stomach hurt. I picked up the cinnamon buns and an orange juice and carried them over to the table, sitting down to listen to Sam and Dean finish hashing out their plan over coffee. I picked apart one of the mini-cinnamon buns and swallowed it down a dry throat. I felt like I was going to throw up. I took a sip of juice and basically picked apart the rolls in the box to kill time so it would seem like I had eaten them. They weren't paying a lot of attention to me. When I finished picking them apart, I got up, threw away the box and headed to the bathroom.

I brushed my teeth, combed my hair, and got dressed. It was fair, I thought. I'd just been trying to save Dean's life. It was fair that I'd contacted the goddess. If she'd been able to save him, it would have been worth almost anything to me. I knew that the guys didn't agree though. Sam would do anything to save Dean or me, and Dean would do anything to save Sam or me, and neither of them wanted me doing anything to save either of them. That's why I had to sneak, that's why I had to contact the goddess on my own. I looked into my own eyes in the mirror and knew I was full of shit. They'd be so mad if they knew. They'd explicitly told me not to. It didn't matter that nothing had come of it.

When I came out of the bathroom carrying my clothes bag, Dean and Sam were crouched over Sam's bed looking at a map of cabins by a stream. Dean said, "What are we waiting for?" just as his phone rang.

It was Bobby and he'd gotten a bead on Bela. When Dean hung up, he said, "Come on, get your stuff, we're going after Bela. Jessie, pack up."

I didn't argue. I just started packing my stuff into my bags. Dean and Sam got into an argument about whether or not Sam was going with us. In the end, Sam wanted to stay to look into Doc Benton and see if what he was doing could save Dean from hell. Dean unwillingly let Sam stay when he realized he couldn't make Sam go.

"Come on, Jessie. You're with me," he said. I hugged Sam and told him to stay safe. I grabbed my bags and went out the door. Dean followed me and paused to tell Sam to be careful before he shut the door.

The trip to Canaan, Vermont was uncomfortable at best. I got to sit in the front seat with Dean, but he was in a crap mood and had his music turned up all the way and his foot all the way down on the gas pedal. We made great time. I buried myself in my book to try to keep a low profile. In the back of my head, all I could hear was my conscience insisting I tell him about the dream root and the dream. I fought to ignore it, my stomach a roiling mass.

"What do you want?" Dean asked me when we pulled into a drive-thru for lunch.

"Nothing," I said softly, not looking up from my book.

"Jessie, you have to order something."

"Fine," I said. "Hot dog and apples."

When we got the food, I took one bite of the hot dog and picked apart the apples, dropping them back into their bag, lost in thought.

"Jessie," Dean said after a while. I looked up and realized that he'd finished eating and we were a ways down the road. "You might as well save yourself the trouble and just confess now."

I blinked. "What?"

He pointed at my hot dog and my apples in my lap. "You barely ate breakfast and now you're picking apart your lunch." He pointed at me. "The only time you do that is when you're guilty over something. Now what did you do?"

I flushed and looked down at the food. "N-nothing," I said, my stomach jerking. Now even the sight of my food was making me feel sick.

Dean looked over at me. "Let me be clear, little girl. If you don't confess now and I find out later that you did something, that's lying, right to my face. And you know how I feel about that, don't you?"

I met his eyes and nodded.

"I'm going to ask you one last time. What did you do?"

I swallowed against the confession that was rising to my lips. If he knew, I'd be dead. He'd kill me.

"Nothing," I said. "It's just that you've only got three weeks left. In three weeks, I'm going to lose you and it hurts! It hurts, Dean!" I burst into tears and his face softened.

"Jessie, it's ok. Sam will take care of you," Dean said, splitting his attention between the road and me. "You're not going to be alone. You'll never be alone. Sam will take good care of you. I promise."

"But he's not you, Dean! I need you and him both! It's not fair. I just got you and I'm going to lose you!" I cried. I shoved the hot dog and broken up apples into the drive-thru bag and pulled my knees up to my chest, sobbing.

Dean reached over and tugged on me. "Come here. Come here, sweetheart." Still crying, I unbuckled my seatbelt and slid over until I was pressed up against him on the bench seat. I fastened the middle seatbelt around my waist and he put an arm around me and let me cry into his chest.

When I stopped crying, I just felt worse. Now not only had I used the dream root again without permission, but I'd lied to him again about it. It was too late now, though. The only way to survive this was for him never to find out.

A couple hours later, we pulled into Canaan, Vermont. Dean stopped at a liquor store to pick up the Johnny Walker Blue that Bobby had told him to get. Then we drove to Rufus's house. I followed Dean up the walk and stood behind him, holding onto his left hand, as he talked to Rufus through the speaker. When Rufus came to the door, I dropped Dean's hand and took a step back. Rufus was scary. Dean was even a little intimidated and called him sir, but when Dean pulled out the Johnny Walker Blue, Rufus let him in.

The minute we were in the door, Rufus turned his attention to me. "Who's this?" he asked gruffly.

"This is my daughter, Jessie," Dean said.

"You bring your daughter on the road with you?" Rufus asked.

"Yeah, but we keep her out of danger," Dean said. "Can she watch TV or something while we talk?"

Rufus set me up in the living room with the television on low. They could see me from the table in the kitchen where Rufus and Dean shared the scotch he'd brought and talked. The pressure that was always present in the back of my head and at my temples had been growing all day, faster and fiercer than normal. As I sat in Rufus's living room and watched the television, I fought the pressure. I wasn't even paying attention to whatever the show was any more. When I started feeling itchy, I knew I was in trouble. I was going to have to let the fire out soon. The only problem was that Rufus and Dean were still deep in their conversation about Bela. I couldn't interrupt them. I closed my eyes and concentrated on breathing.

Ten minutes later and I couldn't stand it any longer. The pressure was so bad that my head had started to hurt. If I held onto it any longer, something bad was going to happen. I got up from the couch and went into the kitchen where Rufus was dropping a file in front of Dean.

"Dean," I said softly.

"What's up, Jessie?" Dean asked, looking up from the file. Then he got a look at my face.

"Why is your girl glowing, Dean?" Rufus asked in gruff surprise.

"You got a woodpile or some charcoal or a fireplace or something?" Dean asked, getting to his feet.

"Whole pile out back," Rufus said, pointing to the kitchen door. Dean swept me up and carried me outside.

"Keep breathing, sweetheart," he said. He set me on my feet in front of the woodpile. It really was huge. It could probably last the whole winter in the little woodstove that was in the corner of the kitchen. "Control it. I'll be right back with the fire extinguisher."

I dropped to my knees and held my head, waiting for him. Finally, I couldn't wait any longer, but I didn't want to explode the pile and cause a scene in the neighborhood. I crawled forward until I was right in front of the woodpile, took a deep breath and pushed the fire into the ground beneath my knees. Fire whooshed out from me in a perfect circle, crawling over the ground like it was coated with gas. As the pressure eased, I pulled it back into me and directed it up into the woodpile from beneath. Flame burst upwards, but the pile didn't explode, and only we inside Rufus's fence could see it.

By the time Dean got back with the fire extinguisher, half the woodpile was burned, the other half was embers, and I was kneeling in the center of a ring of burned grass.

"That's your daughter?" Rufus asked.


	36. Chapter 36 - I Hung My Head

**Short ****chapter this time. Thanks for reading!**

* * *

"Yeah, that's my daughter. Adopted, but still mine," Dean said and used the fire extinguisher on the ashes and embers of the woodpile. Shaky, I stood up and stumbled a little. Rufus stepped forward and steadied me.

"Firestarter," Rufus said holding my shoulders.

"Yeah," Dean rubbed his neck. He handed the fire extinguisher to Rufus and scooped me up. "Psychic powers, not demon given. She's still learning to control it."

I leaned my head against Dean's shoulder. He carried me back into the house and set me down on the couch. I watched the two of them go back into the kitchen and closed my eyes. The pressure in my head was blessedly gone.

"If not from a demon," Rufus said, "how'd she get 'em?"

Dean shrugged. "They started when she hit puberty. We don't know much more than that right now. Fits with what we know about other psychics, though."

I wished it was true. I wished I'd inherited my abilities like other normal psychics, and I was so relieved that he didn't tell this other hunter the truth. Guilt suffused me again.

I stayed on the couch until it was time to go, drinking water from a plastic cup and staring at the television screen. I was going to have to tell Dean the truth and beg his forgiveness. I couldn't handle this guilt. I couldn't handle lying to him. He was going to be so mad. I drank more water and tried to figure out the best way to break it to him.

After a while, Dean finished asking Rufus questions and shut the file. "Mind if I take this with me?" he asked.

Rufus shrugged. "I got another copy," he said.

When Dean stood up from the table, I stood up and went to him. He handed me the file and picked up the fire extinguisher.

"Thanks again, Rufus," Dean said, shaking Rufus's hand. I stepped around Dean and extended my hand.

"Thank you, Mr. Turner," I said. "Sorry about your woodpile." He took my hand into his big warm one and shook it.

"You're welcome," he said. Dean put his free hand in the center of my back and led me to the door. We headed to the car and put the file and the fire extinguisher in the trunk.

As we got into the Impala, Dean said, "I'm proud of you, sweetheart. You were very polite and behaved."

Adrenaline flooded me as I fastened my seatbelt around me and took a deep breath, "Yeah… uh… about that…"

Dean looked at me. "About what?" He started the car and backed off of Rufus's property.

"You know how you said before, when I wasn't eating, that if I didn't tell you what I'd done and you found out later, it would be lying?" I couldn't even look at him. I stared out the window at the houses we were passing.

"Yeah," Dean said, his voice low.

"If I tell you now, is it still lying?" I asked, really quietly.

Dean was quiet for a minute, long enough that I glanced over at him. His eyes were on the road and his face was grim. I looked down at my feet on the floorboard. "It's still lying because you told me that you didn't do anything and you fed me a line of bullshit," he said. "But if you tell me what you did now, I won't punish you for lying, and believe me, little girl, I am being overly generous."

I nodded, knowing he was right. I pulled my knees up and buried my head, scared to tell him but knowing I had to. "I took the African dream root last night and visited Gabby," I said in a rush.

"You WHAT?" Dean yelled. The car swerved momentarily before he settled it back into the lane. "I can't _wait_ to hear your cocked-up reasoning behind that decision," he growled, only slightly calmer. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel.

"I thought she might be able to save you from hell," I said. His eyes flicked to me, and I continued. "But she can't. She's not strong enough."

"And what price did you have to pay for that bit of information?" Dean asked, his voice tight.

"Nothing, Dean. She was really nice. She didn't want anything from me. Nothing. She just told me she couldn't help me and let me go," I said. "I wasn't in any danger!"

"Bullshit, Jessie!" Dean snapped. "You had no idea what was going to happen when you drank the dream root. You had no idea how she was going to react when she saw you. Goddesses are fickle. She might have decided to snap your neck and take her 'gifts' elsewhere." He slammed his palm down on the steering wheel and I jumped. "That's not even addressing the fact that you used the dream root to begin with. You know you're not allowed to touch anything in the trunk without our express say so, don't you? _Don't you_?"

"Yes, Dean," I whispered, my face red.

"Do I even need to mention the fact that both Sam and I told you no when you brought this up yesterday?"

"No, but I was just trying to help," I said.

"Just trying to help?! That's your excuse every time and it's a piss poor one," Dean growled.

"I'm sorry, Dean!" I said. "I felt horrible about it. I shouldn't have done it."

"Damn right you shouldn't have done it, but you know something, Jessie? I think given the same situation in the future, you'd do the exact same thing. Wouldn't you?" Dean asked.

I looked at him, unsure what he meant. "I don't understand."

"Say Sam is in trouble and something's going to happen to him. If we tell you not to help, are you going to sit in the room and let us take care of it, or are you going to disobey us and try to help?"

I knew what the right answer was, I really did, but I didn't want to lie anymore. I dropped my eyes and didn't answer.

"That's what I thought," Dean said. He pulled into a parking lot at a fancy hotel and parked off to the side and behind a wall. He shut off the car and looked at me. "We'll talk about this more after I take care of Bela. You stay here. Got it?"

"Yes, Dean," I said. He raised his eyebrows. "I promise. I'll stay right here."

Dean got out of the car and headed towards the hotel. I unbuckled my seatbelt and leaned against the door, pulling my feet up with me. He was gone a while, and I spent the time thinking. Dean was right. I kept getting in trouble for this. Every time I tried to help without permission, I got my ass handed to me and usually restriction, which meant that it was even longer before I could learn the skills that meant that I could actually help.

I was an idiot. They'd taken me in, helped me learn to control my abilities, made me family, cared about me, loved me, and in return, what did I do? I disobeyed them and made their lives more difficult. In the meantime, it didn't help me at all, just made them mad at me. I was ashamed of myself.

About twenty minutes after Dean had gone into the hotel, he came out and slid into the car. "Did you get the Colt?" I asked.

"No, she'd sold it. Put your seatbelt on so we can get out of here," he said. He started the Impala as I dropped my feet to the floor and snapped my seatbelt on.

"Dean," I said after we'd been driving for a while, "I've been thinking…"

"Do I wanna hear this or is it just going to piss me off more?" Dean asked, looking at me with his brow furrowed.

I flushed and took a deep breath before continuing. "You're right and I'm sorry. I need to stop trying to help when you guys tell me not to. I need to ask before I try to help in the first place and I need to obey you when you tell me to do something. I'm really, really sorry, Dean."

Dean expression changed to surprise. "Thank you," he said. "You're still in trouble, though."

"I know," I said, looking down at my feet.

"It's getting late. How about you get in the back seat and try to get some sleep?"

"Ok," I said. I unbuckled my seatbelt and hugged Dean before sliding over the top of the front seat and lying down with the middle seatbelt fastened around my waist. I wadded up the blanket I kept back there and stuck it under my head for a pillow. "I love you, Dean. I'm sorry."

"I love you too, sweetheart," he said softly.

I woke up a little while later when I heard him yelling 'Sam!' into his phone. I sat up. "Dean, what's going on?"

"Doc Benton's got Sam. We'll be there soon. When I get there, I want you to stay in the car, you understand me?"

"Yes, Dean," I said. I picked up the blanket and hugged it. The rest of the ride was tense. Dean got to the woods around Doc Benton's cabin, parked the Impala, and grabbed some things out of the trunk before heading into the woods.

He was gone a long time. With nothing left to do and since it was the middle of the night, I dozed a little. I woke up when Sam opened his door.

"Sam!" I said. I reached over the seat and hugged him from behind. "I was so worried!"

"I'm fine, honey. See? No harm done," Sam said.

I dropped back into my seat as Dean got back in and we headed back towards the motel. Dean filled Sam in on what happened with Bela. "We need to get your stuff and get back on the road. She's going to be following us and she knows where we are."

I waited in the car while they ran up to the room and made preparations. As we left the motel, Dean saw Bela's car pulling in. He waited about ten minutes and then called the room. Their conversation was a bit scary. Turned out that Bela had sold her soul to a demon to kill her parents ten years ago and today was the last day. She'd stolen the Colt to try to get out of the deal, but they'd wanted her to kill Sam, too. But none of that was the scary part, not really. The scary thing was how cold Dean got when he talked to her. He used some of the same phrases and tones when he talked to me, but there was no warmth or care in his responses to her. It highlighted for me how much he cared about me, even when he was mad, and it made me feel worse about lying and disobeying.

"Where are we going now," I asked when Dean hung up.

"Back to the abandoned cabin," Dean said. "Get some sleep."


	37. Chapter 37 - Redemption

When I woke up, I was on a bedroll in a room in the abandoned cabin. It was light outside and I could hear birds chirping through the chinks in the walls. It was actually pretty nice, until I remembered that I was in deep trouble. Then, I just wanted to curl up and go back to sleep. Instead, I got out of the bedroll and visited the bathroom, thankful this place had a working well. It certainly didn't have any electricity.

From what I could tell, Dean and Sam were out. The main part of the cabin was pretty much empty. The fireplace was empty, and it was cold, so I went and got some wood from the woodpile outside and carried it in. I got some matches, tinder, and kindling and lit the fire the old-fashioned way, the way Sam and Dean had shown me, knowing that if I tried to do it with my abilities, I'd light the whole place up. The cabin was rickety and falling apart. The walls were made of drying wood planks. There's no way this place wouldn't go up like a tinderbox with the smallest mistake.

There was a bag of food on the table from a truck stop that they must have stopped at during the drive back. I dug through it until I found some breakfast bars and a banana. The bars were disgusting, but they'd keep my hunger at bay until the guys got back. Then I settled onto the couch to read, taking advantage of what would possibly be my last chance to do so for a while.

I wasn't sure how much trouble I was in. I'd confessed after some time had passed, and apologized, and swore not to do it again, and I'd meant every word. I didn't know yet if Dean had told Sam what I'd done or how mad Sam was going to be if he hadn't, since both of them had told me no.

My stomach started to hurt and the disgusting breakfast bar wasn't sitting well. I went back into the room where my bedroll was and pulled out the water bottle, taking several long swallows. It didn't help. Now I just had water sloshing around inside me on top of my disgusting breakfast bar. I pulled a blanket off my bedroll and dragged it and the snowman into the main room with me. I curled back onto the couch and tried to read, but I couldn't concentrate. I wished that the guys would get back. I gave up trying to read and looked at the fire, resting my chin on my snowman.

If fire wasn't the most beautiful thing in the world, I didn't know what was. All orange and red and yellow. It flickered and danced and moved. It destroyed and it warmed. Staring into the fire, I lost myself in the flame, able to let everything go and just be blank.

"Did you eat?" Dean asked, coming into the room with a couple more plastic bags. I gasped and jumped, turning to look at him with ghosts of flames still burned into my vision.

"Uh, yeah," I stuttered, blinking my eyes. "I had one of those gross breakfast bar things." I shook my head to clear it of the fire daze. "And a banana."

Sam came into the room carrying a stack of books. "You light that fire the way we showed you or your way?"

"The way that you showed me," I said. "It was cold." I paused. "Don't you guys ever sleep?"

They ignored me. I knew it was only three weeks until Dean's deal was up and they were both running on high, but how often they were up when I wasn't bugged me. But then, I usually slept like ten or eleven hours at night because if I didn't, I was grumpy and no one wanted that.

The guys put their stuff down on the table and then Dean turned to me. "You ready to talk about yesterday?" he asked me.

I flushed and tried to shrug nonchalantly. I think I failed. Dean came to stand behind me and Sam leaned against the fireplace in front of me with his arms crossed, looking at me. I guess that answered my question of whether or not Dean had told him.

"Tell Sam what you told me in the car yesterday," Dean said. He put his hand on my shoulder and that made me feel a little better, but I was still worried about Sam's reaction.

Stomach churning, I looked at the fire burning in the fireplace and said in a small voice, "I snuck into the trunk and took some dream root and then used it to talk to Gabby in a dream the night before last." He didn't say anything right away so I snuck a glance at him. His jaw was twitching. Definitely not a good sign. I met Sam's eyes and held my hands up. "I only did it because I thought she could save Dean from hell, but she can't. I know it was a stupid move. I know I need to ask before I try to help and I need to obey you when you tell me not to. I'm so sorry, Sam! I promise I'll do better."

Sam stared at me in silence for a long time as if evaluating how honest I was being. I met his eyes and then he looked at Dean. "She volunteered it all," Dean said. "Well, after she denied it the first time, but then she confessed and she apologized. She swore she wouldn't do it anymore."

"What did Gabby say?" Sam asked calmly, but I could hear the anger behind it.

"She said that she couldn't help Dean. She said she wasn't strong enough. Then she let me go," I said. I looked back at the flickering fire. Just staring at it made me feel better.

"She didn't make you promise anything?" Sam asked.

"She told me I could call her any time, but I'm not going to call her again. I swear. I want nothing to do with her," I tore my eyes away from the fire to meet Sam's again.

"She wants you, you know that, right?" Sam asked. "She wants to take you and use you up and she's only being nice to you so that she can convince you to help her or trick you into it. Goddesses are as bad as demons. Hell, some of them are demons. The more you try to use her to solve your problems, the more you put yourself in her power. "

"Look who's talking," Dean muttered. Sam didn't hear him.

"I was just trying to help," I objected.

"You ever hear the saying 'the road to hell is paved with good intentions'?" Sam asked. I shook my head. "It means that you can end up in hell just trying to help simply by making the wrong choices." He snorted and glanced at Dean. "For most people, it's not quite as literal as it is for us."

"I know, and I'm sorry! I know it was wrong. I won't do it again. I'll listen to you guys when you tell me not to help. I should've been all along," I said. I was starting to feel desperate to convince him that I meant it.

Sam looked at Dean, and Dean came around in front of me and leaned against the table that was in the middle of the room. "What rules did you break?" he asked me.

I flushed and resettled the snowman in my lap. "I disobeyed you by contacting Gabby when you said not to; I went in the trunk and took the dream root; I lied the first time when you asked me about it. I put myself in danger both with Gabby and by taking the dream root." I looked up at him.

Dean looked grim. "Normally with that list, I'd be taking off my belt now," he said. I blanched. "But," he continued, "you confessed and you apologized. You took responsibility for your screw up and you said that wouldn't do it again." He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head at me. "So I'm letting you off easy."

Relief washed over me only to be whisked away with his next words. "You ever pull this kind of shit again, and you will be one sorry little girl. No confession and no apology will get you out of it. Are we clear?"

"Yes, Dean," I whispered, looking down at my snowman's hat. Dean pulled the chair out from beneath the table and sat down in it.

"Come here," he said.

I slowly got to my feet and set the snowman down on my blanket. "But you said that you were going to let me off easy."

"I am letting you off easy. If you'd like me to illustrate the difference..." he said, and I was at his side almost immediately. He tugged down my pajama bottoms and pulled me over his knee, bringing his hand down hard on my butt. It fell again and again until I was crying. I kicked my legs until he moved his own to trap them. I grabbed the leg of the chair and cried until he finished with a couple of sharp smacks where my cheeks met my thighs. He put me on my feet and tugged my pajama bottoms back up.

"Jessie," Sam said. I turned my head to look at him. He crooked his finger at me and I trudged over to stand in front of him. I looked up at him. He was silent for a minute, and then he said, "I am very disappointed in you, young lady. You knew better than to go in the trunk. You knew better than to use the dream root, and you knew better than to contact the goddess." He shook his head. "You are lucky that you came out of that dream alive."

"I'm sorry," I whispered, tears falling from my eyes. I looked away. He was disappointed in me. The pain in my stomach flared back up. "I didn't want to disappoint you."

He bent so that he was closer to my level. He put his finger under my chin and made me look at him. "You'd better never do something like this again. I'm with Dean on this. I'll take off _my_ belt if it happens again. You understand me?"

"Yes, Sam," I whispered, unable to meet his eyes.

He straightened up and stared at me for another long minute. "I have some stories I want you to read, and when you're done, you're going to write me up a report on how the demons or other supernatural beings in the stories tricked the person the story is about, and then we'll talk about it. When we're done with that, we're going talk about how Gabby can take advantage of you, what your weaknesses are."

"Yes, Sam," I said. I wasn't sure what to think of that. On one hand, yay, reading. On the other, I hated transferring my thoughts about stories into writing, and talking about my weaknesses sounded like it was going to be uncomfortable.

"Go change. I've got some chores I want you to do while Dean and I figure out our next move. And you'd better stay on my good side today. Dean may have had time to stop being angry with you, but I'm still pretty pissed."

I looked up at him with tears in my eyes, and he rolled his eyes. "Ok, come here," he said. He pulled me into a hug. "I love you. It's going to be ok. I promise."

"You'll forgive me?" I whispered into his abs.

"I've already forgiven you, honey. I'm just upset that you went and did something so dangerous after we told you not to." He stroked my hair and then let me go. "Go on."

I turned to leave the room, and Dean caught my arm as I went by him and pulled me into his embrace. I wrapped my arms around his neck and held him tight. "I love you, Dean. I'm sorry."

"I know, sweetheart," he said. "I love you too." He let me go. "Now go change so Sam can tell you to clean out my car." He grinned at Sam and Sam rolled his eyes again. I headed across the cabin to the room where my bedroll was.


	38. Chapter 38 - You See Me Crying

Dean had 48 hours left, two days until the hellhounds were going to come for him. The guys were scrambling for anything they could. They were on the phone with Bobby all hours of the day and night, trying to find anything that they could do to save Dean, but they'd had no luck so far.

I was staying the hell out of the way. I mean, yeah, I was going through the books with them and pointing out anything I thought could help, but to be honest, they all knew waaaay more than I did about this kind of stuff, and most of what I was pointing out to them they already knew, or they'd already tried, or just wasn't helpful. My only consolation had been that they were, in fact, letting me help.

I yawned and rubbed my eyes. The words in the book on hellhounds were blurring together. Dean was in the other room talking to Bobby and had been for an hour. Sam was buried in his own tome. I leaned my head on my hand and tried to read.

My eyes were closing again when Dean slammed in the front door. "Nothing yet," Dean said and then noticed me. "Jessie, it's past midnight. What are you still doing up?"

I shook my head to clear it and tried to focus on him. His face softened. "Come on, sweetheart. You're falling asleep sitting there." He came over to me and pulled the chair away from the table. I stood up shakily and leaned against him. He smiled and walked me to the room where my bedroll was. "Get changed and get in bed," he said. "Call me when you're ready to be tucked in."

I kind of stumbled around and put my PJs on, visited the bathroom, and then crawled into the bedroll. "Dean!" I yelled. "I'm in bed." I pulled my pillow under my head and closed my eyes to wait for him.

I woke up a little when someone tucked the snowman next to me, and I wrapped my arm around it. Dean pulled the blanket up over my shoulder and kissed me good night, and then Sam followed suit. My eyes closed slowly on the sight of them leaving the room.

I woke up to the sound of birds chirping. I got out of the bedroll and dragged myself into the main room where I found the embers of a fire burning, Sam asleep on the couch, and Dean with his head down on a book. I was tempted to push at the embers a little, to flare the fire back up, but didn't. I didn't have enough control for that. Man, I really wanted more control over my flame.

I didn't want to disturb them, since they'd been getting so little sleep lately, so I grabbed a donut from the box on the table and one of the occult books and headed back to my bedroll. I flipped the book open, but instead of finding anything about hell or hellhounds or demon deals, I found a table of contents filled with psychic abilities. One of them was pyrokinesis. I flipped back to that chapter in the book, took a bite of donut, and tried to read it.

I got about a paragraph in before I realized I had no idea what it was talking about. It talked about agitating atoms and increasing thermal energy until the object or air ignited. I had no idea what that meant, but it didn't sound like what I did. I didn't agitate anything. It felt more like the fire was inside me and I just gave it an outlet, something to burn. If all I was doing was agitating atoms, why the hell did it build and build until I had to let it out?

Maybe I wasn't pyrokinetic. Maybe I was some other kind of freak. I swallowed hard around the last bite of donut. That was not comforting.

I flipped past the section on what pyrokinetics are and got to what they can do. Everything that was listed was tiny: heat up an object, light a candle, make a ball of heat or fire, heat up someone's internal body temperature, hold fire in your hands. The way that it described putting out fire was to still the atoms that you were agitating so that the fire would go away. All of that was way too small, way too focused for me. My fire was big. When it left me, it was in a column or a stream, if you want a way to picture it. As for putting it out, I sucked it back into me. I knew Bree had some other way she did it the time I tried to set her on fire, like smothering it with air or whatever she did with her abilities, but the only way I could put it out was to pull it back into myself.

Regardless of how accurate the book was for me, some of these ideas for things to do with flame were interesting, and if I could ever get more control over my fire, they could be useful. I stuffed the book into my butterfly backpack for more reading later and got dressed.

I was pulling on my shoes when Dean came to the door. "Jessie, come out here. I want to talk to you."

I stood up uncertainly and dusted my hands off on my jeans. By the look on his face, it couldn't be anything good, but I was also sure that I wasn't in trouble. He just looked upset. He held his hand out to me. I took it and let him lead me into the main room where he sat down on the couch and pulled me into his lap. I tucked a loose strand of hair back behind my ear so I could see him better and waited.

"Sweetheart, we're sending you to Bobby's house," he said, his expression pained. "It's getting too close to time and I don't want you to be here for…" He trailed off, but I knew what he meant.

I was cold and hot at the same time, completely unsure how I felt, how to react. I touched the pendent on the leather thong around his neck, fiddling with it as I whispered, "Bobby's helping you guys; he can't watch me. You need him."

"Bree is going to stay at his house for a couple of days to take care of you," he said, putting his finger under my chin and tilting my head up so that I met his eyes. "If we can get me out of this, Sam and I will meet you there in two days. If we can't, Sam will come for you alone." His voice hitched.

I felt like I was burning up. Tears were threatening to choke me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and cried into his shirt. He held onto me and rubbed my back, whispering that it was going to be ok, but I knew it wasn't. I hadn't let myself think about how it wasn't going to be ok in a while. They were masters of getting out of tricky situations at the last minute, but this? How were they going to get out of this? Even they had no ideas, no plan. I cried into his shoulder, sobs wracking my body.

Eventually, I couldn't cry anymore and I just held onto him. He held onto me, too, but eventually, he tapped me lightly on the thigh and said, "Come on, sweetheart. You need to go pack up your stuff. Bobby will be here to get you soon." I pulled away from him and met his eyes, seeing the unshed tears there. I got up and stumbled back into the room with my bedroll.

I felt cold inside as I picked up my clothes and shoved them into the backpack. Dean was most likely going to hell. Only a miracle could save him, and there was no reason to think that a miracle was coming. They couldn't get to the demon that held his deal. Ruby was a dead end. He was screwed. He was going to die.

Just like my parents had.

I shoved a dirty sock into the front pocket of the backpack and zipped the pocket closed. It wasn't fair. Why did I keep losing people? Why did the world take the ones I love away? Why were they sending me off, taking away the last few hours that I could have had with Dean before I lost him forever?

I hooked the bag over my shoulder and stomped back into the main room. Dean was buried back in the books that he had fallen asleep on and Sam was building the fire in the fireplace back up. They both looked at me as I came into the room. I threw the backpack as hard as I could against the wall. The wall shook and dust and dirt shuddered to the floor, and Sam stood up. I put my hands on my hips. "I'm not going," I stated. "I'm not."

"Jessie," Dean started, getting to his feet. He looked tired and drawn. "Please don't do this."

"It's not fair," I said. I could feel tears rising again and I fought to keep them at bay. "I don't want to go. I want to be with you as long as I can. If you send me away, I swear to god, I will run. I'll leave Bree, and I'll come find you. Don't send me away." I stared straight at Dean, daring him to push me.

He ran his hand down his face. "Jessie, please, please don't make me spank you. Please don't make that be your last memory of me. I get it. I do. You don't want to go, and I don't want you to go, but sweetheart, I don't want you to see me get taken to hell either, if that's what it comes to. It's going to be gruesome, and I don't want that to be your last memory of me either. That would be worse." He met my eyes and I could see he meant it. He'd put me over his knee and I'd still be sent away, only this time, they'd know I was going to run and they'd make sure I couldn't. I had lost.

I started crying. I sat down on the floor with a thump and buried my face in my hands. "Dean, please, please let me stay. If it comes time, I'll go somewhere else. I'll get away so I don't see you. Please? I swear. Please don't make me stay with Bree. Not now. Please?"

And then Dean kneeling next to me, holding me in his arms and hugging me tight to him. I clutched him. "Sam?" he asked. "What do you think?"

"It's a bad idea," Sam said, ducking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. I could see tears in his eyes. He sighed and looked at Dean. "It's a bad idea, but we'll have enough warning to get her clear if it comes to it, if you want her with you."

Dean took a breath. "I do want her with me, but I should send her away, Sam. It's safer. It's better for her."

Sam ran his hand through his hair, emotions clearly warring within him. Finally, he said, "I'll make sure she's safe, Dean."

The tension left my body and I sagged in Dean's arms. He relaxed too, giving me one last squeeze before letting me go. Sam came over and crouched down next to me. "Jessie, if you want to stay, I need a promise from you. You have to do exactly what I say when I say it. No arguing. You understand? That's the only way you can stay."

I nodded frantically. "Anything, Sam. I'll do anything you say."

"All right, honey. Go put your stuff back in your room. I'll call Bobby."

I threw my arms around Sam's neck. "Thank you, Sam. Thank you." He kissed the top of my head, and hugged me back.


	39. Chapter 39 - Ain't That a Bitch

**This is the last chapter for Season 3 and this story is complete. I'll either be starting Season 4 next or starting the interlude between Season 3 and Season 4 next. I haven't decided yet. Once again, thanks for all of the reviews and for reading.**

* * *

I didn't leave Dean's side after that, unless he was indisposed. I stayed with him when he was on the phone and studying occult books. I sat by his feet and read a novel while he read more about hellhounds. Sometime in late afternoon, I dozed off with my head against his knee.

I woke up when Sam came back in. He told Dean that Bobby had a way to find Lilith and that he was going to make sure that Dean didn't go to hell. Dean said ok, but I could tell he wasn't convinced.

A little while later, Bobby pulled up and I ran out the cabin door to hug him. "Bobby!" I exclaimed. He swooped me into a spinning hug and put me back on my feet. "I'm so happy to see you."

Bobby straightened his hat. "I hear you talked those boys into letting you stay with them," He tilted his head at me.

My face fell a little and I whispered, "I don't want to be away from Dean."

He smiled at me. "I know what you mean, girl. You don't want to be away from him while his time is so short. As long as you go hide when we tell you to, it'll be all right."

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. "Thanks, Bobby," I said. I went to grab his arm, and he let me until he opened his trunk. He pulled out this big device with three wooden legs and a pointy bit in the middle. I followed him into the house and stood near Dean while they spread out a map and set up the device, which looked like a three-legged pendulum. Bobby did a spell and figured out that Lilith was in New Harmony, Indiana.

Then the arguing started. Sam wanted to call Ruby, but Dean didn't want him to, because he didn't want them to make the same mistakes over and over. Eventually, Bobby said he was going to see if he could figure something else out.

"You want me to take Jessie with me?" Bobby asked. I stepped closer to Dean as Dean shook his head. Bobby shrugged and left. The guys went back to research, and eventually Dean excused himself and went outside to clear his head, telling me to stay in the cabin.

While he was gone, I went over to lean against Sam. "Do you really think that summoning Ruby will help?"

"I can't think of anything else to do," Sam said, rubbing his forehead and wrapping an arm around me. "It's our only chance."

"But, you told me that they're always out to trick you. We went over those stories together, remember?" I asked, a little confused. "What if she is just using you for her own purposes like you said Gabby is?"

Sam lifted his head and looked at me, tears in his eyes. "I can handle Ruby," he said. "I don't trust her. I know she's using me, but she's our only chance to save Dean."

"But in the stories, the people always think they're outsmarting the bad guy, and…" I started, trailing off when Sam gave me a look.

"I'm not going to let him go to hell, Jessie. I'm not," he said, stopping when the front door slammed shut.

Dean came in, running his hand through his hair and looking determined. "Jessie, it's past nine. Time for bed."

"Can I sleep out here on the couch so I can be near you guys?" I asked.

Dean shook his bed. "Sorry, sweetheart, but no. I want you in your bedroll. Go on and get ready." He shooed me out of the room. I took a quick, kinda cold shower, brushed my teeth, and put on my PJs. Then I slipped on my sneakers over my bare feet and went back to the main room.

"I need to burn something," I reminded Dean. He nodded and took me outside to the fire pit that they had dug and filled with deadwood that we had gathered from the woods around the cabin. The base was charcoal, just in case I needed it. When I was done, Dean took me back to my bedroll and tucked me in. Sam came in as he was kissing me goodnight.

Sam handed me my snowman and kissed me. "You get some sleep. We'll wake you up if we're going anywhere. Remember, you promised to do exactly what I tell you tomorrow, no arguing." I nodded. He stroked my hair a couple of times and then he and Dean left the room.

I stayed awake a little while longer listening to the sound of their voices as they talked, but eventually sleep overtook me.

I woke up the next morning to Dean collecting my packed butterfly bag from the floor. When he turned and saw that my eyes were open, he nodded at me. "Up and at 'em, sweetheart," he said with gruff affection. "Time to get moving. We're out of here in twenty minutes."

I got up and got myself together in record time. While I was getting dressed, Dean packed up my bedroll. By the time I was out of the bathroom, Sam and he had the car packed with all of our stuff. I carried my clothes backpack out to the car and tossed it into the trunk with the rest of the bags. As I climbed into the backseat of the car, Dean tried to start it, but nothing happened.

After a couple of tries, Bobby showed up and knocked on Dean's window with the distributor cap in hand. They both got out of the car and Bobby yelled at them for trying to ditch him. He told Dean that family doesn't end with blood, his eyes shooting to me for one quick second. After Dean put the distributor cap back on, we got on the road.

It was a long drive to New Harmony, Indiana and it was well past dark when we started to get close. I'd started drifting off to sleep in the back seat when a police siren jerked me awake. Dean pulled over, but when the officer came to the window, Dean beat the crap out of him and then stabbed him with Ruby's knife just as Bobby pulled up. Sam said that it had been a demon and Dean told us all that he could see demons' faces in their human hosts now.

I waited in the car while they hid the police car and the body of the officer. When they got back, Sam opened the back door of the car. "Go with Bobby," he said to me.

"But we're not even there yet," I objected, looking from him to Dean and back. Sam raised his eyebrows at me.

"No arguing, young lady. Remember?" he asked. I swallowed and nodded, grabbing my butterfly backpack and climbing out of the car. I hugged Dean and then Sam, and then followed Bobby to his car.

Bobby let me sit in the front seat. I put my seatbelt on and fought tears as we started moving. "It's just to keep you safe, darlin'," Bobby said to me quietly. "In case we run into anyone else before we get there. Ok?"

"Yeah, Bobby," I said. He ruffled my hair. Half an hour later, we parked outside of the neighborhood that Lilith was 'vacationing' in, according to Ruby. They set up base in a house that was for sale and started making plans. Sam and Dean were going to go into the house where Lilith had possessed a little girl to try to kill Lilith. Bobby was going to bless the water in the sprinkler system to keep the demons away from the house while they did it.

"What am I going to do?" I asked hopefully.

"This is the end of the line for you." Sam said. "You'll wait here until we're done. Bobby'll come back and stay with you after he finishes with the sprinklers."

"There's only three hours left," I started.

"What did I say about arguing?" Sam interrupted.

I sighed and went to Dean. I couldn't say anything. If I was staying here and they were going out there to get rid of the demons and kill Lilith, it was very likely that he wouldn't make it back. I ducked my head to hide the tears in my eyes and grabbed him around the waist. He hugged me back and whispered, "I love you, little girl."

"I love you too," I whispered. He kissed my head and let me go. I hugged Sam next and then Bobby.

"Don't leave this house without Bobby or me," Sam said.

"Yes, Sam," I said, sitting down in the corner of the empty living room. I watched the three of them leave. Once they were gone, I went to the window and watched the house that they were going to. I couldn't really see anything, since they'd taken the binoculars with them. After some time had passed, several demons came out of the other houses in the neighborhood and ran towards Lilith's house, only being stopped by the sprinklers suddenly turning on. The demons stood behind the line of holy water sprinklers and stared at the house.

Shortly thereafter, Bobby came back to the house and caught me staring out the window. "Girl," he said, shaking his head. "Get away from the window."

"It's not like I can see anything, Bobby," I said, glancing at him. He grabbed my arm, pulled me to my feet, and gave me three sharp swats on my butt.

"I said stay away from the window," he said, with an unspoken warning in his voice. I stepped away from the window and went back across the room to sit. Bobby settled down in front of the window, checking his pocket watch occasionally.

The wait was interminable, and when Bobby's phone rang, I knew that it wasn't good news. Bobby left the room to take the call, with a look at me that I knew meant I should stay where I was. I didn't. I got up and crept down the hallway to the room he went in and stood by the closed door.

"Ok. Ok. I'll be right there, boy. No, I'll leave her here. Just hold on."

Shit. I scurried back to the living room and put myself back where he'd left me.

"Stay here," Bobby said. "I'm going to go help Sam. It's going to be a while."

"Did Dean…?" I asked, with my heart in my throat.

Bobby came over to me and crouched down next to me. "No, darlin'. He's gone. They didn't kill Lilith. Just stay here for me, ok? Can you do that?" He pulled me to him, and I went limply.

"Yeah, Bobby," I said, feeling completely numb inside. "I can do that."

He stood up and went to the door. Then he turned to look at me again. "You call me if you need me to come back, ok?"

I nodded and leaned my head back against the wall. As soon as he walked out the door, I started crying.

After that, everything was a blur. I know we drove to Pontiac, Illinois, and I know we buried him. They wouldn't let me see him. Sam and Bobby fought about whether they were going to salt and burn his body, but Sam won and they didn't. I know I cried on and off and when I wasn't crying, I was just staring, going mechanically through the motions of doing what I was told. Sam was torn up, Bobby was torn up, none of us was exactly sane.

And once Dean was buried, Bobby said goodbye and told us to keep in touch, and it was just me and Sam and all the time in the world.


End file.
